


Architectural Attraction

by YukiRiikus_Reading_Room



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Real World, Anxious Steve, Artist Steve Rogers, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Corporate Espionage, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt Bucky Barnes, M/M, Military Backstory, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Permanent Injury, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rivalry, Sabotage, Second Chances, Social Anxiety, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6921349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiRiikus_Reading_Room/pseuds/YukiRiikus_Reading_Room
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers, fresh from leaving the military, is at a loss how he's going to make ends meet.  Sure, he has his pension, but it's not the best situation, and with a degree in art and design he never got a chance to use he's low on options - until a friend offers to set him up with an interview for a designer job at a big fancy company.  He accepts, and dives headfirst into the world of large scale business, corporate espionage, and being in the public eye all while trying to figure out if his boss, Anthony Stark, is flirting with him (or if he's just misinterpreting signs he wants so badly to be there).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reprogramming

2:15 am. 

Steve glanced at the slightly fuzzy red numbers on his alarm clock for a moment, finally giving up with a sign and clicking on the light.  Clearly sleep wasn't coming tonight, just like it hadn't for the last three.  Swinging his legs out of bed, he padded cross his tiny Brooklyn apartment towards the fridge, yawning as he pulled out the milk to pour himself a bowl of cereal, wishing for about the hundredth time that he was still overseas with his childhood best friend Bucky - it had been years since he'd had to fall asleep without the sound of his gentle snores to help him drift off.  The silence of his old life without his friend was practically deafening to him, especially when it came to time to try a sleep.  He missed the barracks, the quiet reminder that his friend was within sight, still breathing and safe from the battle for at least that moment.

Back home in Brooklyn without him, Steve was having trouble not picturing the worst. 

_Not going to think about that_ , he told himself, shaking his head.  Bucky would be fine.  Besides, he was  sniper, one of the best.  He wasn't on the front lines, and even if he had been, he could take care of himself.  He knew his best friend was in o hands with their team, but that didn't help dissuade the nagging worries eating up at him and festering in his stomach making him feel sick.  Steve couldn't help feeling like he was supposed to be the one there to make sure nothing happened to Buck and that without him, he feared the damned idiot would do something reckless and brave, getting himself killed in the process.

Carrying the full bowl over to his tiny dining room table, he flipped open the laptop his friend Natasha had lent him to look for jobs now that his time with the military had been cut short.  He sat down, rubbing out the tenseness in his left shoulder as he booted the computer up to keep searching for something - ANYTHING, really - that he could do.  His friend Sam Wilson had offered to help him find something, but he knew Sam had enough on his plate down at the V.A. as it was.  There were just so many jobs he couldn't see himself doing, not after being in combat for so long, and most of the customer service options made him feel awkward.  It had been a long time since he'd had to deal with any new people, and he'd never been that comfortable socially to begin with.  Still, he knew he had to find something soon before his saving ran out.  The pension he was getting for his time in service would only go so far, and he didn't want to have to rely on charity to get by, though plenty of his friends had offered to help him out financially.  Squaring his shoulders, he hunkered down, prepared to give his job search the same rapt attention and level of focus he used to give to disarming bombs and planning battle strategies. 

 

 

*          *          *          *          *

 

 

"Well, don't you look like shit."

"Hmm?"  Blinking Steve sat up, rubbing at the red spot on his cheek where he'd fallen asleep with it pressed to the table.  He glanced up at the computer screen with a frown.  43 job applications sent out in the last two weeks since he'd come home.  Absolutely no replies, except for a few that stated he wasn't qualified enough for the position.  He was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to catch a lucky break.  Finally he looked up at the redhead standing next to him, one hand holding a small paper cup out to him as the other absently adjusting her scarf.  "Hey Nat, let yourself in again I see."

"For your information, I used the key James left with me when you both shipped out last time, thank you very much."  She smiled, perching on the back of his beaten up old sofa as he gratefully took the coffee she'd brought him.  "Stayed up all night job searching online again?"

"Well I can't stop looking until I find something, I've got bills to pay.  I haven't even had a single interview yet."  Steve sighed, chewing nervously on the lip of his cup.  He glanced up at his friend in time to see her looking away.  Natasha was better than the others about hiding her concern from him, especially when that worry edged closer to the territory of pity.  He was forever grateful for her friendship and understanding of how his mind worked.  "Maybe I'm just not worth hiring. I went into the military right after art school, never really got any other work experience.  Maybe I missed my big chance ages ago and didn't notice."

"Don't try that crap with me Rogers.  I know you're feeling desperate right now but trust me, you'll find something.  Maybe we just need to brush up your resume and make it look more impressive.  Or maybe you're just not looking in the right places, applying for the wrong jobs.  But not to worry, Natasha is here to save the day as always."  Standing up she turned the laptop towards her, eyes scanning the list of applications he'd put in.  After a minute she rolled her eyes, frowning up at his as she turned the screen back towards him.  He could already tell what she was going to say, but that didn't make his nerves about it quiet in the slightest.  "These are all office jobs.  Where's all the art jobs?"

"I didn't apply for any."  He shrugged, not quite meeting her gaze.  Natasha had met him at college, long after Bucky had helped him overcome the bulk of his awkward teenage nervousness, and didn't always grasp just how shy he could be, especially when it came to the work he really wanted to be doing.  Just because he wanted a design job didn't mean he was good enough for one, no matter what she or Buck said to the contrary. 

"See?  This is the real problem.  Steve, you have a degree from the best art school in New York and I know how talented you are.  Use it!"  She whacked in upside the head lightly, clicking her tongue against her teeth in disappointment as she did so.  He pulled away from her, shutting the laptop and pushing it away.  "Look, I know the last few months have been rough on you since you got your injury and had to be sent home.  But this is your second chance, and I don't can't sit back and let you blow it without at least trying to get you to go after your dream.  You remember, right?  From college?  You wanted to be a designer, talked about it all time.  This is your chance to do that, so get out there and make it happen!" 

"It been years since I did anything with my art Nat, and even if I was still on the level I used to be, its not like I even know where to start trying to get into the field anymore.  I went straight from graduation onto a plane headed for Fort Knox for training.  There wasn't exactly a lot of time to keep my skills from getting rusty."  He was feeling overwhelmingly tired again, like he always did lately after worrying about his lack of a future.  He downed the rest of his coffee and crushed the cup.  "I never did anything with my degree.  I don't have a name in that community to stand behind or to bring me any notice or credibility as a designer.  I've got no chance."

"You won't know unless you try."

"You sound like Bucky."  He said fondly, smiling when she ruffled his hair.

"Smart man, that James Barnes.  I always did like him.  Have you heard from him yet?"

"He called yesterday from Siberia, let me know they were going on a mission out in the field and that he might not re reachable for a few days until it was over.  He's got a good group with him though, I know they'll watch his back for me."  Steve said, both of them pretending that they believed he was fine with the idea of Bucky going on a mission without him there to protect him.  "He'll be fine."

"Right.  He'll be fine."  He could never tell if Nat was really agreeing with him, or saying what he most needed to hear.  She was the type of friend who'd been known to do both as the situation called for it.  Before he could think too hard about it, her phone rang, Natasha pulling it out and mouthing 'work, sorry' before slipping into the kitchen to take the call.  He fiddled with his empty coffee cup while he waited for her to come back into the room, trying not to let his worry show on his face.  He'd felt like he was drowning in stress since returning to Brooklyn, his shoulder and spirit completely wrecked, constantly worried about what he'd left behind and about everything stretching before him in a haze of insecurity.  He barely managed to pull himself back the present as he heard Natasha hanging up her phone and heading back towards him.  When she finally returned, she looked overly pleased.

"Good phone call?"

"Brilliant one, actually.  I think I might have found you a job - or, at least an interview for one." 

"Seriously?"  He sat up straighter, blinking at her in confusion as she settled back down onto her seat.  "Wait, don't you work at a robotics company?"

"Sort of?  Stark Industries does a lot of tech stuff, including robotics.  Anyways, as you know, I'm Mr. Stark's personal assistant and I'm in good with the CEO Miss Potts.  She just called to tell me that I needed to help her find a new principle designer for our marketing department as soon as possible.  The last one just bailed on us, said something about Tony being a complete ass to work under, but whatever, people always blame it on Tony when they crack."  She said excitedly, pulling the laptop back towards her.  Steve watched anxiously as she pulled up her company's website and started navigating through page after page, finally stopping on an application page.  "Part of my job is to make Tony's job easier so that he can focus on being a genius, which usually means keeping the paparazzi away and cutting down on the number of people he has to interact with on any given day.  I'm supposed to look over the applicants and find one or two for Tony to interview personally since he says whoever picked the last guy was a complete moron and he won't be saddled with another waste of space - and before you say you're a waste of space, don't.  I already know you're brilliant, so you'll be fine."

"Nat, I know how you feel about my work.  I'm worried about what Tony-Fucking-Stark would think flipping through the portfolio I haven't updated since I left school.  I've read the tabloids Nat, he can be ruthless."  He said.  She rolled her eyes, gesturing back at the application.  She clearly didn't see the risk to his fragile ego right now.  "Look I know you see something good in Stark, but not a lot of people do."

"So you're going to trust the mass media's opinion of my boss over mine?"

"No, that's not what I -"

"Is art something you don't want to pursue anymore?"

"You know I do, I just -"

"Do you suddenly not need a job?"

"Nat..."

"Then just apply for the damn job so I can get you an interview, alright?"  She said in a huff, flicking him in the ear as she stood up.  She kept talking over her shoulder as she walked towards the door, clearly done with him for the day.  "Look, just apply alright?  I'll do my best to get you that interview, I promise.  The rest is up to you."

He watched her leave, sighing when she slammed the door shut behind her.  _That,_ he thought, _is what worries me_.  Still, he glanced at the application form she'd pulled up for him.  Even if he applied, that didn't mean it would work.  Miss Potts could step in and pull his application out of the running before he even had a chance to ruin an interview with Stark, and all he'd have lost was a little time typing out his information and attaching his resume.  What could it hurt, really, in the long run?

 

 

*          *          *          *          *

 

 

He wasn't expecting to get a call from Natasha the next day asking what time he could come into the office to meet with Stark personally.

"Wait, so Miss Potts didn't have any objections to me?"  He asked, slightly stunned.  He'd never thought it would get this far, no matter what Nat had promised him.

_"No, Pepper loved the images you attached, and I think it helped that I know you personally.  At least she knows you're not a complete psycho if I'm vouching for you, you know?  That can get you a long way in this business, knowing the right people, or in this case knowing me."_

"You're always the right person to know Nat, in every situation."  He laughed, glancing at the portable portfolio partially hidden behind his bookshelf gathering dust.  "When does Stark want to meet for the interview?"

_"At your earliest convenience, which in Tony language, means today as soon as you can get here."_

"Ah.  Well, then... how about in an hour?"  He asked, hurrying over to his closet to pull out his best clothes.  If this was really happening, he owed it to Nat to at least try and make his best effort to impress her boss. 

_"I'll make sure nothing comes up on his schedule.  See you in a bit!  And Steve?  Good luck!"_

As he pulled on his best sweater and fumbled to remember how to tie a tie after years of not needing to wear one, he couldn't help but think just how much luck he was going to need to get through this.


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has his interview with Tony, which does not go well. And yet...

Steve Rogers had been one of the most socially awkward, scrawny, overly brave teenage boys to ever grace the halls of Brooklyn's public high school. He could stand up to bullies - in words, at least, and showed a lot of guts considering each encounter ended in his ending up in the nurse's office with a black eye or something broken - but point him in the direction of anyone who wasn't Bucky and ask him to have a conversation and he'd nearly pass out from nerves. It wasn't just girls, though all the giggling and constant whispering to one another certainly made everything feel more complicated than it needed to be. The boys were just as bad if not more intimidating, given they often saw him as an easy target and took full advantage of it by closing him in lockers or chucking his books into the dumpster out of his reach. People only really showed him any kindness when Bucky was around.

Bucky had always been a magnet, even when they were little kids.  His easy smile, boyish charm, and complete understanding of what to say at exactly the right moment in almost any situation made him popular with his peers and adored by the ladies.  People tended to be nicer to Steve when his best friend was around, rightly assuming that it wouldn't help them get in good with James Barnes if he found out they'd been given his best friend a wedgie five minutes beforehand.  Steve never used his position for evil, or even for revenge, mostly because he was honestly just happy for a reprieve from the torment so much he didn't care to hold a grudge.  As they grew older though, it became harder and harder for Steve to keep the worst of it from his best friend, the bubble of innocence finally popping when Bucky walked in on three boys holding Steve down and punching him senseless. 

Bucky got suspended for knocking them unconscious, had all the girls in school swooning over his rarely shown over-protective side, and found an apple pie from Steve's mother outside his door the next day. 

It was after that incident that Bucky decided it was time to bulk Steve up.  They started a training routine and diet plan that Bucky swore up and down would help Steve get bigger, stronger, and overall less able to be beaten into a pulp on a regular basis.  His mother had some brief reservations, but she trusted Bucky as much as he did, and they both knew at the end of the day she would be much happier and less worried not having to bandage her only son up multiple times in a week.  Initially, it was slow going, and Steve wondered if they'd ever make any progress.  Finally though, the summer before they went off to college - Bucky went to a smaller school to learn mechanics and engineering, close enough that he and Steve could get an apartment halfway between their two schools and it wouldn't be inconvenient to stay together - Steve grew into his adult body, and suddenly everything was different.  The same girls who'd used to laugh at him at homecoming were asking him to dinner, the boys who'd teased and heckled him wanted him for their baseball teams, and all around everyone seemed to finally think he was worth paying attention to. 

Except, he hadn't changed on the inside.  The idea of going to their parties, or being alone with anyone that wasn't Bucky or his mother for an extended period of time, made the palms of his hands sweat and his head start to buzz anxiously. 

As a young man, Steve finished college in the top 5% of his class with a degree he'd always wanted.  He'd made a few friends, like Natasha and Clint, but mostly had been content with casual acquaintances and having a lot of alone time to really focus on his studies and his growing portfolio.  His mother having died the previous year, he had been considering an internship in London for a design firm when Bucky came home to tell him he was going to join the army.  It was something they'd briefly discussed off and on as the war had raged on the last year and a half overseas - Steve said it was a shame so many innocent people were getting hurt, while Bucky kept muttering about what he would have done if those 'damn bullies' had been there for him to punch - but Steve hadn't realized how serious his best friend had been until that moment.  It didn't surprise anyone when Steve said he was going with him, though Natasha still cried when they told her - which she would deny to her dying day, they both knew, if Clint hadn't taken a picture as proof.

Steve Rogers as an army captain had been a beast, a veritable force to be reckoned with.  He'd risen through the ranks quickly, settling securely into a captaincy in almost no time flat.  Bucky was his second in command, which suited them both perfectly, and their men appreciated the down to Earth Brooklyn attitude they led them all with.  It was like they could hear the enemies' thoughts with how well laid out their plans always were, their record of no casualties on high profile missions making their unit starts among the other platoons.  Their commanding officers kept giving them more and more important, intricate missions with ever success.  It was dangerous work, but it was fulfilling, and Steve knew every day that his best friend kept breathing next to him that he'd made the right decision. 

And then he had to go and take that bullet for Douglas and ruin everything. 

They'd been on a routine patrol when they'd been ambushed by Hydra radials, a firefight ensuing.  He'd had Douglas fall back to radio in their coordinates and request backup when a sniper had caught on and started trying to gun the man down before he could make proper contact and ruin their surprise attack.  Steve hadn't thought so much as acted, rushing across the short twenty feet towards him to cover the man, the bullet that would have ended his life lodging instead firmly into Steve's shoulder causing a nonlethal wound.  He didn't regret saving the man's life, but the minute he felt the bullet tear through the muscles in his shoulder and his arm dropped limply to his side, he knew it was all over.  Even if they managed to repair the damage, he'd never be what he once was, and sending him back out into the field with an injury like that was something he knew wouldn't fly.  Within three days he was on a plane headed back to the United States, leaving Bucky behind in Prague between missions with a sudden promotion and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that more than just Steve's arm had been injured. 

Steve Rogers had never been a coward.  And yet, as he stood outside of Tony Stark's office door clutching a copy of his resume in one hand and his portfolio in the other, he seriously considered turning tail and running away while he still had the chance. 

"It's not best to keep him waiting too long."  Steve jumped slightly, frowning over his shoulder at where Natasha stood leaning against the wall watching him with an amused look on her face.  How long had she been watching him, he wondered, and why did she always have to be so damn perceptive?  "You'll be fine, I promise.  Go in already, he's been waiting for you to show up for the last twenty minutes."

"I'm five minutes earlier than I told you I'd be here though."  Steve said in exasperation, checking the clock on the wall.  He'd actually shown up ten minutes ago, but had wasted some time in the parking lot practicing some deep breathing to try and cool his frayed nerves.  It hadn't helped in the slightest. 

"Yeah, you are.  But Tony runs on his own schedule."  She shrugged, looking down at the large screened silver and black watch attached to her wrist.  She briefly tapped on it like a keyboard, a faint whirling emanating from within it as she did so.  Steve wouldn't have been surprised if it was the work computer she was always talking about with all the gadgets he'd seen Stark showing off at conventions and expos over the last few years.  The watch pinged, Natasha finally looking back up at him.  "Here's the deal.  I pushed back a meeting for Tony with a company representative from Spain so you could get your interview, and I can only keep Spain occupied for so long before they'll get antsy and demand to see the genius they're contracting, so please, just get in there and start your damn interview already, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."  Steve shot her a mock salute, his nerves calming slightly when she laughed and rolled her eyes at him before turning and heading back to her office to 'occupy Spain' for a little while longer.  Turning back to the imposing office door, Steve raised his fist and knocked.

"Come in.  Unless you're from HR, in which case FUCK OFF already, I don't have time for your seminars today thank you very much." 

Momentarily taken aback, Steve entered the office coming to stop just inside the door.  The room was bigger than his entire apartment - which, yes, was shitty and small but still - and lined on the back wall with floor to ceiling windows.  One wall was lined entirely with tall, dark oak bookshelves crammed to bursting with hundreds of books, manuals, and schematics.  The other was covered almost entirely in different half sketched designs of products Stark Tech had been working on, from the decade old arc reactor that had started it all to new products some of which Steve wasn't sure had even hit the market yet.  But it wasn't the impressive furnishings that had caught his attention, it was the man himself, Antony Stark.  Standing by the window looking over some files attached to a clip board, his shirt partially unbuttoned showing off a tender sliver of his neck that had Steve going pink in the cheeks, Stark didn't seem to have noticed him yet.  He gingerly took his pencil between his teeth, mussing up his dark, gorgeous hair in frustration with his hand before flipping through a few of his notes to make annotations on another page.  Steve watched him quietly, unsure if he should break his concentration or let him finish.  After a few minutes Stark looked up.

"So are you always this awkward at job interviews or am I just special?"

"Huh?  Oh, I'm... I'm sorry."  Steve said hurriedly moving forward into the room as the other man surveyed him critically, Steve going pink again under his gaze.  It had been a long time since he'd been so attracted to someone.  He'd come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to both men and women a long time ago, but had always been a little bit more interested in women.  Then again, he hadn't even been in the prime position to get an eyeful of Tony Stark.  "I didn't want to interrupt you."

"I told you to come in, didn't I?"  He said in a bored voice, setting his clipboard down on his desk a little more forcefully than was necessary.  Steve couldn't help himself and flinched slightly, hoping Tony hadn't noticed it.  When he looked back up, he knew from the quirk of his eyebrow that he had, but thankfully he didn't mention it.  "You're Natasha's suggestion, correct?  Roger, or something?"

"Steve Rogers, sir."  He held out his hand stiffly, expecting Tony to shake it, which he did not.  After a few moments Steve awkwardly dropped his hand back at his side as the older man continued to stare at him like he was sizing up his dinner.  "She said there was an opening in your marketing department for someone with a design background?"

"Yes, Harold quit yesterday.  It was quite a brilliant display of self indulgence and stupidity, actually.  All that screaming and throwing papers around like they were confetti and not plans for a multi billion dollar marketing campaign and calling me a bastard.  I can't comment on the truth of the last part since it depends on who you talk to, but I never called him useless. To his face, anyways.  Besides, that's like getting mad that I said the grass was green, I can't change the fact that he is, in fact, useless.  Why shouldn't I speak the truth?  People get angry when I lie, but if they get that mad when I'm honest, I don't know what else they'd expect from me."  Stark rambled slightly, moving to sit down at his desk like this wasn't the weirdest interview Steve had ever been to.  After a minute he glanced up, a look of annoyance crossing his face as she gestured emphatically at the empty chair on the other side of the desk.  Shaking slightly Steve dropped down into it, his resume wrinkling slightly in his hand from nerves.  He'd heard from television and tabloids how harsh Tony Stark could be, but it was another thing entirely to be in the same room with him listening to him rip into an old employee when they'd just met for the first time a few minutes ago.  "So, your background?"

"Well, I grew up in Brooklyn - "

"I meant in design, not your backstory."  He interrupted, looking away from Steve to pull up something on his computer and start typing furiously.

"I went to the Soho Academy of Art and Design, graduated in the top 5% of my class."

"And... your previous employment?"  Still that angry, fast typing.  It felt like it was drilling a hole into Steve's temple.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  At least Tony wasn't staring at him anymore.

"The United States Government."

"Interesting.  Well... wait, hold the fuck on.  Seriously?"  Stark looked up at him, a slack disbelieving look on his face.  When Steve nodded, he rubbed a hand over his face clearly displeased.  "Are you kidding me?  What the hell is Natasha playing at sending me into an interview with some kid who's never even had a real job?"

"I'm sorry you don't see defending our country from Hydra radials as a real job."  Steve snapped, instantly regretting it when he saw the way Tony stilled instantly at his words.  His head lifted slowly, a strange look plastered on it that Steve wasn't sure he understood or liked the look of.  Especially not when it was pointed at him.  "I... I apologize for the outburst, that was uncalled for." 

"No no, please.  Go on.  Tell me what you really think of me."  Tony said slowly, steeping his fingers in front of his face against the desk.  Steve said nothing, but didn't break his gaze.  "Hm, you are an odd one Rogers."

"I'm sorry you seem to think so, sir."  Setting his portfolio down leaning it against the desk, Steve fiddled wit the edge of his resume.  He'd wrinkled it quite a bit since entering the office without meaning to.  Natasha was going to kill him for blowing this interview, he was sure.  He briefly considered getting up and walking out before he could make things any worse for her. 

"What's with all the sir shit, anyways?  I'm not that much older than you, I'm sure."

"It's a respect thing.  Picked it up in the army."  Steve shrugged slightly, absently trying to straighten out his resume against the corner of the desk.  Tony snatched it out of his hands before Steve could stop him, glancing down at it in a bored fashion. 

"Hmm, you were a captain.  Even I find that impressive.  It says here you left the army with an honorable discharge."  Tony read through his details slowly, finally looking up at Steve like he was suddenly something interesting he was considering dissecting.  He would have preferred to have stayed boring.  "What happened?  Did you start with you were twelve and retire early?" 

"Got injured."  Steve said tersely, refusing to continue.  He shifted again under the other man's gaze, wishing for the millionth time that he was back in Europe getting shot at.  That, at least, he knew how to handle.  This nonsense?  Being scrutinized and nervous about how he was clearly saying all the wrong things?  So much worse. 

"Look, I'll be honest with you... you seem like a nice guy, and I do usually trust Natasha's opinion, but without any practical experience I don't see how I'm supposed to take it on faith that you can run the department and properly market my products.  This is a business, not a charity.  Also, nepotism doesn't work on me.  I hated my family."  Standing up Tony picked his clipboard back up and turned away from Steve, going back over to the wall to look over a sketch hanging by the window.  Slightly stunned by the abruptness of his dismissal, Steve stumbled to his feet and headed for the door, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark, regardless of the outcome."  Tony's head shot up, but Steve was already out the door pulling it shut behind him. 

 

 

*          *          *          *         *

 

 

It wasn't until later that night, when Natasha and Clint had come over to his apartment with a commissary bottle of tequila that Steve remembered his portfolio.

"Shit, Nat I left my things in the scary man's office!"  Steve whined, resting his head against her boyfriend's shoulder.  Clint giggled, flicking a piece of popcorn across the room at a shadow under the window he kept calling 'kitty' and trying to beckon over.  Whenever he drank, Clint always saw imaginary cats.  Bucky had wanted to get a cat when they got the apartment for the express purpose of hiding it from their friend until the firs time he got drunk then letting it loose just to see how badly he'd freak out if one of the cats that he saw drunk actually came over to him, but Steve had shut that down pretty quickly.  It had been back when he'd worked on paintings in the living and dining rooms, leaving them out to dry overnight.  Neither of them had wanted to cat proof the entire apartment to protect his work, so they hadn't gotten a cat.

"You mean Tony?"  She asked, lifting her head up off of her arms.  She'd been going in and out of consciousness for the last hour, leaving the boys to chat without her about some baseball game they'd seen on television last week.  "He's not mean, not really."

"Said scary, not mean."  Steve mumbled. 

"Oooh, you think he's MEAN!"  Clint whistled, giggling when Nat tried to punch him and miss.

"Shut up!?  I did not..."  Natasha sighed, clearly not sure anymore just what she's said.  She poured herself another shot and picked up a wedge of lime, gesturing at where the boys were collapsed together on the couch with it.  "Okay, he's a little scary and a whole lot mean sometimes.  I'll get your things the day after tomorrow when I go back into work, m'kay?"

"Sounds good."

"Okie-dokie then.  Now that's settled, more drinking!"  At that moment, her phone rang.  She sighed in annoyance looking down at it for a second through blurred eyes, before sitting up suddenly looking threateningly somber out of nowhere.  She clumsily poured the shot back into the bottle, chucking the lime out the window like she was worried it would be incriminating before she answered her phone.  "Natasha speaking... NO I HAVE NOT BEEN DRINKING... okay fine, yes I am... I am the drunk... I'm off tomorrow and its outside of work so... oh, okay, that's nice.  Here let me get him.  Steve?  Phone's for you!"

"Wha?"  Steve sat up, wobbling slightly.  Clint put a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady as he reached across him to get the phone, both of them giggling when Natasha fell off her chair.  After taking a second to calm down, he put the phone to his ear.  "Yello?"

_"Ah, I see you've also been drinking?"_

"Yes.  And who is this?"  Steve asked, snickering as Clint tripped trying to help Nat up off the floor and fell down beside her in a heap. 

_"Tony Stark, your new boss."_

"New boss?  You asked me... to leave... and were pretty damn rude the whole interview."  Steve said too loudly, blushing when Tony's gentle laugh rumbled through the phone's static.  "I thought you didn't like me?"

_"I liked you okay, but I wasn't really invested until I looked through your portfolio.  There was some truly impressive work in there Rogers, I'm interested in seeing what direction you could take with my company."_

"You looked at my art?! Nat he looked at my stuff!"

"That's a good thing!  You've got great stuff!"  She grinned from the floor where she and her boyfriend seemed to have given up trying to stand and decided instead to cuddle between the couch and the coffee table. 

_"So anyways, I don't want to keep you on here too long seeing as you're... well, wasted.  Why don't you come into the office on Monday for us to draft up your official contract, alright?"_

"See you then!" Steve hung up the phone, looking down at his friends half asleep and giggling at his feet.  "Hey guys?  I got a job!"

"Yay!  You did the thing, way to go!"  Clint smiled, raising a fist into the air in celebration.  "I guess we should stop drinking the fuck-you-messed-up-your-interview shots then though huh?"

"CELEBRATORY SHOTS!"

 

 

*          *          *          *          *

 

 

The next morning Steve woke up to a pounding headache, a trashed apartment, an empty bottle of tequila tucked into the cabinet next to his mugs, and a note he'd written himself in slanted, confused handwriting reminding him that he had a job now come Monday.  Everything would have been perfect, except for the nagging reminder that he now worked for Tony Stark, the internationally well-known asshole of the corporate world, who he was ashamed to say he'd found far too attractive the one time they'd met so far.

This was going to be a disaster.


	3. Welcome to Corporate America!

Steve wasn't expecting Clint and Natasha to be sitting outside of his apartment building on Monday morning in the moderately nice, nondescript car they;d purchased last year so that Natasha wouldn't need to be dropped off at Stark Tech in the beat up old jeep Clint had had since college.  On the one hand, it was a blessing because he'd been prepared to walk rather than deal with the bus or subway adding more unnecessary strain to his already moderate anxiety levels - not the best way to start his first day at a new job, but better than it could have been if he'd used public transportation - and because of the soy milk latte Clint handed him as he slipped into the backseat.  The coffee cup was a good anchor for him, keeping him solidly in the moment and out of his own head.

Then again, he didn't think he could handle Natasha's constant fussing over him on their drive.

"Are you sure you want to wear a tie the first day?  It's so... first day of kindergarten.  Tony doesn't really care about ties, you can shove it in my bag if you want.  I mean Pepper prefers them, especially when news outlets or film crews are running around the building, but its not necessary.  You'll be working directly under Tony so his rules go.  Plus, I don't think they've ever filmed anything in Marketing, they generally follow Pepper and try to sneak off and get dirt on Tony if they can.  Oh, and let me know when you want to go to lunch.  I'll write down my extension for you when we get to work, just dial nine and then that and it'll call my office directly.  Lunch is whenever you really feel like it, but most people wait until at least 10, as long as you're getting your work done though Tony doesn't really police when we take breaks.  I'll take you out for sushi, my treat as a congrats for getting the job - not that I didn't think you wouldn't, I had ALL the faith in your skills, but still, Tony can be a real asshole. Should I be telling you this stuff?  I mean I'll probably be the one giving you the tour and showing you to your office, Tony literally NEVER gives tours, but still.  I mean it can't hurt right?"

"Nat, honey?"  Clint interrupted, his eyes flicking up to the rear view mirror to check on Steve.  "I think you're rambling is going to break his brain."

"Oh, shit, sorry!"  She sighed, slumping down in her seat slightly.  "I didn't think about... I'm sorry.  This must be really overwhelming for you."

"Pointing it out isn't exactly nice either, dear."  He whispered a little too loudly, Steve smiling to himself.  For one reason or another, Clint had always been the best - other than Bucky, who'd lived with his insecurities his whole life - at understanding how Steve's anxiety needed to be handled.  Steve thought it might have had something to do with Clint's bad hearing - he'd never gotten the full story, just something vague about circus camp with his brother when he was young and his hearing coming and going meaning he only needed help from his hearing aid in his left ear and only on the worst days - and that he'd gotten so used to people not making allowances for his needs that he tried extra hard to make sure no one else had to suffer in silence.  Ever since the first time at college when he'd found him having a slight panic attack at a party Natasha had dragged him to after an art show, he'd been a godsend with helping get Steve out of situations that were a tad overwhelming and being a buffer between him and his other friends, casually requesting that they eat somewhere else if a restaurant as too crowded or carefully managing Natasha in those rare times when she seemed to forget Steve wasn't a social butterfly like her. He guessed he couldn't blame her.  Being best friends with Bucky, the magical man all women wanted to be with and all men wanted to be, everyone seemed to think that he naturally had the same magnetic appeal and ease with people but Steve had always been anxious and awkward, and growing into a less feeble body hadn't changed that.

No matter how much he wished it had sometimes.  

He stared out of the window for a few minutes, breathing steadily to calm his nerves.  Logically he knew he was fine, that he would continue to be fine.  The subway wasn't an anxiety inducing cesspool, having a conversation wasn't something to panic over especially when it was one of his closest friends, and having to work under someone you found attractive wasn't something to excessively overthink before your first day.  Well, the last one might be valid, he thought.  He wasn't sure how he was going to work under Tony Stark when all through their interview he'd been distracted by the occasional flash of his collar bone through his partially unbuttoned dress shirt. 

"So... where were you thinking we could go for sushi?"  Steve asked, pleased when his friend perked back up immediately.  She jumped into listing her favorite places downtown, Clint occasionally giving his opinion on them as they pulled up to the curb outside of the Stark Tech building. 

"This is it. Ready?" Clint asked.  He fiddled with his hearing aid, a tick Steve had come to notice meant he was feeling nervous.  He grinned back at him in the rear view mirror, hoping it helped.  Getting out of the car, he followed Natasha inside.  He was grateful to have her with him, even if he was worried how it would look to the other employees as she lingered nearby while he was put into the system at the front reception, given his key card and security access codes, and otherwise brought into his new world.  As the elevator doors closed, the pair of them both relaxed, grinning at each other - he could do this, right?  With Natasha there to back him up, he would get through this day and all the days to come at Stark Tech.  As long as he had her, Steve was sure he'd be fine. 

The elevator pulled to a stop about ten floors below theirs, Steve instinctively moving closer to Natasha as the doors opened.  He hoped it looked like it was to make room and not that he was nervously looking for reassurance, even if that was the case.  He was glad he'd done so as soon as he saw who was getting in with them.

"Good morning Natasha, and... this must be Steve, she's told me so much about you!"  A tall, slender redheaded woman smiled at him, holding out a hand for him to shake.  He took it nervously, his eyes flitting to the man who had entered with her.  Tony didn't look at him, staring straight ahead as he adjusted the buttons on the sleeves of his jacket, a haughty look plastered over his face.  "I'm your CEO, Pepper Potts.  You'll see me around, but I don't work very closely with Marketing specifically.  I believe you and Mr. Stark have already met?"

"Yes, we did."  Tony said in a slightly clipped tone, everyone turning to look at him.  Steve pulled his hand from Miss Potts carefully, not wanting her to know they were beginning to sweat.  He had been serious about a job offer, hasn't he?  He wasn't sure whether Stark was the type of person who would have told him he was hired as a joke just so he could humiliate him later, but he didn't think so.  Natasha at least always vouched for him actually being a nice guy under all the bullshit jackassery he was always pulling for the media.  She seemed of the opinion that he only did those things to keep news outlets in business - mostly at least, she wasn't so naive as to turn as devil into a saint, she had admitted on multiple occasions that he could be a real bastard when he wanted to be. This seemed a bit far, even for the worst of the tabloid dramas they'd concocted about Tony over the years.  After all, what was there to gain out of humiliating a nobody ex-soldier?  "I was incredibly impressed with his portfolio.  The work is very different from the flash-bang junk we're used to using, more refined and sparse while still getting a poignant point across."

"Well color me intrigued."  Pepper blinked at Tony for a second before turning back to Steve, an eager smile on her face again.  "If you have time later today I'd be really interested to view your portfolio as well, as long as that's alright with you?"

"Uh... sure, that would be wonderful ma'am."  He nodded respectfully at her, turning a little pink when he eyes lit up and she giggled.  He could sense Natasha's encouraging smile beside him.  This was going much better than he'd expected when he was getting ready this morning pondering all the ways he could mess up and get fired after only one day.  "After Natasha finishes giving me a tour I'd be happy to--"

"Natasha isn't giving you a tour today, I am."

Everyone turned to look at Tony again, Natasha reaching out to grasp the edge of Steve's sleeve.  This hadn't even been a worry on his list.  He remembered how sure Nat had been in the car - hadn't she said NO ONE got a tour from Tony?  Besides, wasn't he the company genius?  How did he have time to stop being brilliant at everything to give him a tour? 

"Normally, yet, she'd be giving the tour but I have an assignment for her that can't wait.  I need her to finish looking over that new contract we just got in from Hammer Tech, Justin is hounding me about every damn detail and if I have to read anymore fine print I'll stab my eyes out.  It's already on your desk waiting for you, right next to the cinnamon bun and that stupid frilly coffee you like from the cafe next door."  Natasha nodded, sharing a confused glance with Pepper that didn't go unnoticed by Steve.  He blinked back at Stark, swallowing when the he turned suddenly and looked him in the eyes.  Why did it always feel like he was being sized up, and always being found wanting in some way?  "Is that a problem Rogers?"

"No of course not, I just assumed you'd have more important things to do that give me a tour."  Steve said, swallowing again when Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

"Nonsense.  As head of Marketing, you're vital to our success as a company.  It's my job to make sure you're properly settled in so you can give us your best work to help better the company."  He said matter of factually, huffing hen no one said anything.  "What, I can be responsible when I need to be."

"Good... well, I... this is my floor.  Tony, we'll talk later about the budget for the first prototype you were asking me about.  Steve let me know when you're free to come by and show me some of your work.  Natasha, good luck with the Hammer contract, let me know if that weasel is trying to scalp us for every cent again so I can make a rebuttal."  Pepper backed out of the elevator, Steve feeling the oppressive tension in the small room spike exponentially now that there was less of a buffer between him and Stark.  Natasha stood awkwardly between them, clearly unsure of what to say to defuse the confusing and unnecessary tension.  Steve was beside himself with worry - how had he made Stark dislike him this much between an interview and on phone call?  Sure, he'd been tipsy, but he was pretty sure he hadn't said anything awful.  When they got to the top floor where he knew Stark's office was, he was surprised when Tony motioned Natasha out of the elevator but stayed inside, his hands folded in front of him stiffly.  Steve looked carefully away from him, nerves coiling in his stomach.

"Do I really make you that nervous, Rogers?"

"I..."  Steve started to respond, then stopped, unsure of what to say.  Tony was looking sideways at him like he was actually seriously concerned, the contrast between how he was looking at him now and how he'd acted in front of both women startling.  The creased between his eyebrows deepened the longer it took him to form a response.  "No, it's not... you.  Well, not just you anyway.  I won't lie, you have an intimidating presence and reputation."

"Well I do try."  Tony said in the suave voice Steve associated with his television appearances, a bit of the concern draining from his bosses face.  "But to be frank, it worries me a little that you look at me like I make you want to hide under a rock.  If there's something I could do to help make this transition easier for you..."

"The fact that you're concerned at all or offered to help means a lot, thank you."  Steve said honestly, gracing the other man with a small smile.  Tony stared at him with an incredulous look on his face, clearly torn between wanting to let it stand to not stir up trouble and wanting to ask.  "I, uh, don't usually tell people, but I have a slight anxiety disorder."

"Is that from being deployed, or what?"  Tony asked, cursing slightly under his breath when Steve didn't respond at once.  "Sorry, was that massively rude?  I have a tendency to not think before i speak, like, at all.  Its one of my defining character traits or so I've been told." 

"No, it's alright.  I'm just not used to anyone asking about it.  Usually I try to keep it to myself, and the people I have told have never really asked much about it, they just took it as a fact."  He said with a shrug, looking away from Tony.  He wasn't sure he could keep talking about himself while looking into his stupidly beautiful eyes.  God, he didn't understand why he was being so honest right now, especially about something he generally tried to keep to himself, but for some reason when Tony had shown concern for him he'd wanted to tell him everything: about his anxiety about everything, about feeling out of place back in New York without Bucky, about his worry for his best friend, and worst, about how gorgeously distracting being this near him was when he was already nervous.  He had no idea why he was telling Tony all this, especially when he wasn't totally sure he wouldn't tease him about it later.  "I've always been sort of a nervous person.  I think it might have to do with how much I used to get bullied as a kid."

"You, getting bullied?  Those kids must have had some massive balls to mess with someone as beefed up as you."  Tony laughed, lightly tapping his bicep.  Steve hoped his boss hadn't noticed the small shiver even that brief contact had caused him.  Steve cursed at himself internally for turning into a simpering school girl with a crush.  What was wrong with him?

"I was a pretty sick kid."  Steve explained, not wanting to go into it farther than that.  It was a long, awful story of hospital visits, medications they couldn't afford, treatment after treatment meant to help that only lasted a few months before they were right back where they started.  He still wasn't sure how he'd lived this long, or how he and Bucky had ever been able to work his body to a point to a point where it could be health and fit after the hell of his early youth.  "This muscle came later, before college.  Buck was worried about us going to different school and people messing with the easy target, so I bulked up.  Never really got rid of the nerves though, just got better at hiding them - or at least I though I had.  You saw right though that."

"You actually hide it pretty well, I'm just particularly good at reading people.  Have to be, in a business like this. Everyone from rival companies to the reporters are out for blood and a good story.  You get good at seeing through people, learning who to truth and who not to."  Tony shrugged.  "Seriously though, if there's anything I can do to help make your adjustment to working at Stark Tech easier, just let me know.  I'd rather my employees want to be here, and want to stay."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

The elevator dinged, Tony leading Steve back out into the entrance atrium heading for the front doors.  "I figured before we got down to the tour we could get coffee and look over your official hiring paperwork, figure out a reasonable pay rate, all that technical crap.  Sound okay?" 

Steve nodded, following Tony out into the sunlight.  This was certainly turning into the weirdest, best first day of work he'd ever had. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My keyboard is a piece of junk which may or may not be dying, so if words are weirdly missing letters or there aren't spaces between words, I apologize. I'm trying to fix everything I notice, but I'm bound to miss some :( hopefully I can get a new keyboard soon, but we'll see. For now, thanks for putting up with my shitty editing!


	4. Beeps and Boops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve meets his team and Natasha begins to scheme

_I'm getting coffee with Tony Stark, head genius of a multi-billion dollar company and the man Marvel Magazine deemed most eligible bachelor in New York this year._

Steve blinked against the sunlight filtering in through the cafe windows, staring down at the Americano he'd ordered for himself. Tony, of course, had insisted he pay for both their drinks before ushering him to a booth near the back window that was apparently his favorite - Steve tried not to feel guilty about the young couple who a barista had shooed out of it to make it available for them, especially since according to Tony there was a sign somewhere that let other patrons know this was a fairly regular occurrence, but so far he was failing.  It still felt rude, even though the barista has assured him Tony and the owner had an agreement in place that gave Tony overreaching rights to the booth in return for his public endorsement and support at their bi-annual charity events.  Occasional charity didn't make up for rude behavior, but apparently he was the only one around who felt that way currently.

He had a feeling that was going to the way he felt about a lot of things in his life now that he worked with Stark Tech.

"So, down to brass tacks then shall we?"  Taking a long sip of his drink, Tony fixed him with a fiercely stoic stare. It was such an abrupt change from the joking, lighthearted chatter he'd heard from his boss on the short walk to the cafe that Steve swallowed reflexively, the way he felt now not too different from the way he'd felt what felt like a lifetime ago in his Brooklyn middle school sitting with Bucky outside of the principal's office after they'd been in yet another fight with some of the other boys who thought bullying Steve should be a regularly held sporting event.  "I expect you to be at work weekdays no later than 9am, and to leave whenever you felt you've done an adequate amount of work, so stay until at least 1pm, otherwise Pepper gets suspicious that I'm paying people to chitchat and leave.  As long as you meet the deadlines I give you however, I won't tell you when and where to work on your projects.  You feel more comfortable completing certain things at home while blaring Black Sabbath, more power to you, it always helps me when I'm blocked so I won't begrudge that in others.  If there's even any confusion about what I expect from you on a project, actually ask me for clarification, please.  The person who held your position two people ago... maybe three?  I can never keep track of the marketing leads we've misplaced over the years... anyways, she had a habit to assume she knew what I wanted better than I did, and then had the audacity to get offended when I told her that her proposals were shit and had to be redone.  Not my fault she assumed she knew what I wanted better than I did.  Believe me, I am always straight forward about what I want."

"That I have no trouble believing."  Steve muttered under his breath, blushing when Tony laughed.  He was still shaking his head with mirth when Steve finally glanced back up at him a few minutes later when he'd gotten his breathing back under control.  "Sorry, that was rude of me."

"I think the word you're looking for is honest, actually.  Seriously, its fine.  I find your adorable lack of self control when it comes to politely calling me out... rather refreshing.  So many people suck up to me my ass is in constant pain from all the kisses it gets on a daily basis.  Just don't do it in front of Pepper, she's my fiercest protector even if she won't admit it."  He grinned, motioning at the barista to bring him another coffee.  "You'll have a team of two working directly under you, but there are other marketing monkeys lurking in the department somewhere.  One is a consumer research specialist, and the other is... well, I don't actually know what she does, but Pepper keeps telling me its important, so she stays employed.  You'll meet them later when I give you the whole tour and let you lose in your department.  So, the only real thing left is to discuss your salary."

Taking a deep breath Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded square of paper, which he handed to Steve with the air of a man who felt he was about to do something extremely unpleasant.  Raising an eyebrow he unfolded it, blinking down at the number upon it.  _So many zeros..._ "Before you tell me it's too much, which I'm sure you'll still try to do anyways, understand something.  I just hired you to be the head of marketing for the world's foremost and most expensive company for robotics, technological advancements, aerodynamic... well, we're top in almost everything, really.  You deserve to be paid a wage equal to the amount of stress I intend to put on you, and honestly, I lowered that number twice already figuring you'd complain it was too much.  Seriously though, its not that generous an offer."

"Please explain how THIS..." Steve cut off, waving the paper at his new boss in confusion.

"I intend to push you to excel, and I won't always go easy on you.  I'll make certain allowances while you get accustomed with the company and how I like things to be done, and I promise to try and take your anxiety into account, but I still expect results.  Like I said before, this is a job, not a charity.  I've been told I can be... harsh.  And that's probably true.  It's certainly not the worst thing I've been called."  Though he struggled, Steve was certain he saw a flash of hurt in Tony's eyes before he looked away focusing instead on his coffee.  "Look, just take the money ad don't make a big deal out of it.  This way if there's even a time that either me or the pressure become too much, you'll have a good cushion to fall back on if you resign."

Steve blinked back at him, trying desperately to get the fluttering in his heart to calm enough to be able to reply without his voice shaking.  Taking his silence for agreement Tony stood, collecting his second coffee from the staff before motioning for Steve to follow him.  Clambering out of the booth he followed in a stunned silence, swallowing against the tangle of emotions swelling up in his throat as his boss led him back into the building and droned through the tour of the building like it was the most boring thing in the entire world.  Normally Steve would have listened more carefully, would have tried to memorize where certain things were for later use, but he was so stuck on one thought he couldn't bring himself to fully focus: _Tony Stark cares enough to want to make sure I'll be taken care of if I decide to quit._

_Tony ACTUALLY cares._

"...And this is your office."  Steve snapped out of his thoughts to Tony shoving him gently into a spacious room crowded with desks, shelves of materials, computers, and half completed sketches strewn about the room.  The people dashing around the room looked up at him as he entered, his face going pink at their openly curious stares.  "You have the rest of the day to get acquainted with your staff, take a look at their preliminary ideas, feng shui the furniture, look over past ad campaigns, whatever you feel you need to do.  Tomorrow we'll get you up to speed on the next big launch you're planning so you can start figuring out your scheme." 

With that Tony shut the door behind him, leaving Steve standing uncomfortably standing in the doorway with the entire marketing department openly sizing him up.

"Uh... hello, I'm Steve Rogers, the new head of Marketing.  Nice... to meet all of you."  Steve said, his voice trailing off as everyone went off to do whatever it was they had been doing before he showed up out of nowhere.  After a few seconds of standing there awkwardly staring into space, he finally noticed two women who hadn't moved off yet and seemed to be waiting for him to notice them.  "Um..."

"Tony didn't tell me our new boss would be this yummy."

"Darcy!"

"Well he is!  I just call things like I see them.  Just because you're sort of in love with that hunk in fabrications doesn't mean you can't window shop."  The girl shrugged, shoving her hands into her hoodie pockets.  Blinking Steve took in her appearance, wondering if she was the reason Natasha had told him there wasn't really an enforced dress code.  Between the Pikachu hoodie, ripped and faded jeans, converse, and lumpy wool hat she was wearing, 'Darcy' looked more like the college kids he'd seen back at the coffee shop complaining about the inherent sexism in mainstream media than someone who was supposed to be part of his marketing team.  She readjusted her glassed, smirking at the stunned look on his face.  "Hey new guy, I'm Darcy Lewis."

"And you do... what exactly?"

"Mostly I answer the phones and bake the staff really on point cookies, but if you're lucky sometimes I make fudge and work as the office DJ while everyone else works on their assignments.  Sometimes I come up with brilliant marketing campaigns the old fogies around here never would have thought of, it depends on how I'm feeling.  Oh, and I run Tony's twitter account and Instagram in my spare time."

"I... nice to meet you."  Steve said a little desperately, turning his gaze to the other woman helplessly.

"Hi, I'm Jane Foster, your consumer research specialist.  I'm here to feed the company reliable data on all things consumer related, from perceptions in the media to current trends we might make use of for our marketing plans."  She smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake.  He did so gratefully, glancing back around the confusing maze of desks in the office.  "Yeah, about that... Harold went a little nuts before he quit and moved everything around.  Said we were taking up valuable thinking space."

"Let's rearrange this bitch!  Leave it to me, ah... what's your name again, dude?"  Darcy asked, poking him in the chest.

_This is going to be a long day..._

 

 

 

*          *          *         *          *

 

 

Overall, his first week at the company could have been much worse.

By the end of the day between Jane's helpful mediation and Darcy's overpowering demands and direction, the marketing department was finally put back into something that was workable.  Darcy had even managed to pull some large sheets of cork board out of nowhere and put them up along the back wall, proclaiming that Steve looked like a pushpin sort of guy, whatever that was supposed to mean.  After things were finally settled, Steve and Jane went over the last three marketing pushes the company had made, Steve finding her data on how the campaigns had been received by the public a well as congruent sales reports and Tony's personal comments on all past work from the department particularly helpful.  It also didn't hurt than anything he started to feel like he was floundering and in over his head, Darcy magically appeared out of no where with a brownie or a cool old jazz song she wanted him to listen to. 

Nat dropped in sometime in the afternoon to exclaim over how bid his office was and drag him downtown to meet up with Clint for lunch, agreeing with no small amount of amusement to allow Darcy to tag along with them when she immediately latched onto Steve's arm the second she heard 'sushi'.  By the time they were walking back into the Stark Tech building, Clint was demanding Darcy bake him all the cookies so they could have a Harry Potter movie marathon and catch Steve up on all the pop culture he'd missed out on while he was overseas.

The next morning, there was an Americano on his desk next to a small stack of papers in a scrawled handwriting he could barely read telling him all about the new medical robot Stark Tech was working on for combat situations, and the times for a meeting with Tony and several of his scientists and the fabrication manager later in the week.  For the rest of the week Steve got together with Jane and, when she wasn't too busy deciding what filters to use to make Tony's Instagram photos blow up the internet the best, Darcy to get together a few different possible directions and tag lines for the product in case they expected ideas at the meeting, delegating out work on sketches and different sample logos to the other people in the department.  He didn't see much of Tony throughout the week except when he passed him office on the way to meet up with Nat on their way home, at which time he would usually stick his head in and tell his boss he was leaving and answer any small questions about his day or work that Tony had before leaving to head home.  Other than that, he was left to his own devices with his team without interference or direction from his boss.  By the time the meeting rolled around, Steve felt moderately confident that one of the three final directions they could take the marketing would be to Tony's liking.

Dr. Banner, the head scientist whom Tony seemed to agree with the most, was a quiet but kindhearted man that Steve found he liked right away.  Like himself, Banner appeared rather shy, though he lit up instantly when talking strictly about the scientific aspects of their current project.  On the other hand, the fabrications manager Thor was lively and energetic, and seemed particularly knowledgeable and excited about the complex mechanics and electrical work he and his team were proposing for installation in the first prototype of the design.  Tony sat back the entire time and listened to everyone's opinions and interjections, occasionally making some notes for himself but saying little.  When it was Steve's turn to present, he had barely set up his three marketing designs for everyone to view when Tony cut him off.

"The middle one, hands down.  Rogers, I'll send you some more accurate specs on what the bot can do and some rough designs we've been working on for the final product to work into the next round of your designs.  Good work everyone, I like where this is headed."  Tony said, picking up his phone.  The others immediately started to get up to leave, clearly understanding the dismissal, but Steve stayed seated for a moment gathering his nerves.  After all their hard work, he hadn't even gotten a chance to defend or explain the designs of the campaign angles his team had worked so hard on.  Banner patted his shoulder, jerking his head for Steve to follow him, which he did reluctantly.  He could feel Tony's eyes on his back as he retreated, but didn't bother turning around, afraid he would see disappointment there.

"About your design..."

"It's awful, isn't it?"  Steve asked, sighing when Banner didn't respond right away.  "We worked so hard on them, but I guess maybe we went in the wrong direction."

"I was actually going to say it was quite brilliant." His head shot up, trying to gauge if the other man was making fun of him or not, but there was only sincerity in the face looking back at him.  "Do you always assume people are going to tell you your work is bad, or is it just me?"

"Tony..."

"...really liked your design, or he would have told you they were all complete crap."  Banner grinned, patting his arm.  "Believe me, subtle isn't something he does well."

He got the distinct impression as he walked away that Banner had known how Steve had felt about Tony's apparent dismissal of his work and had wanted to correct any misconceptions he might have had, though why he would even bother was beyond Steve's understanding.  The team were thrilled when he returned with news that Tony had approved one of their directions, and after a few minutes of shelling out orders to the others on which aspects he wanted each of them to tackle and coordinating with Jane to have her look over the specs Tony was sending them for what might be most useful to them, he went to meet Natasha and head out for the day.

He briefly saw Tony when he passed his office on his and Nat's way out later that evening, but he looked fairly busy so Steve contented himself with a small wave he wasn't sure Tony had seen before hurriedly following his best friend to the elevator.  Just as the doors were shutting a hand stuck quickly in, the doors opening to reveal and slightly panting Tony.  Nat raised an eyebrow at him as he slid into the elevator with them.

"Heading out already you two?"  Tony asked, Steve shooting Nat a confused look.

"Yeah, we were.  There a problem with that?"  She asked carefully, clearly just as confused about what was going on as her friend was.

"No, no problem.  Convenient, but no problem.  I was just heading out myself to meet Pepper for drinks at some local shmancy bar.  It's always kind of boring when it's just Pepper and the business people she wants to look good for and I'm not in the mood to be bored all night.  Would you two care to join us?  I'm sure the three of us could liven things up a bit."  Tony grinned, glancing between the two of them.

"Well, I..."

"I actually can't, my boyfriend and I have dinner reservations."  Natasha said, cutting Steve off.  He shot her a look, unsure what she was up to.  There was no way these reservations she was pulling out of her ass were real - the last and only time Clint and Natasha had gone to a fancy dinner together had been their junior year of college, and they'd both sworn to never waste their time or money on something fancy and overpriced they didn't need again.  "Steve doesn't have plans though, I'm sure he'd love to get drinks with you though, right Steve?"

"I... sure, that sounds great."  Steve buckled, the pointed look Nat was shooting him over Tony's shoulder telling him quite plainly that he didn't have a say in the matter.

"Alright, if you don't mind waiting out front while I pull the car around we can head straight over."  Tony smiled, stepping out of the elevator and heading towards the parking garage.  Steve waited until he was just out of sight before rounding on Natasha, who smirked at him.

"What the hell are you doing?  Me, at a bar, with him?  How is this a great idea?  Oh, and your reservations?  What sort of bullshit excuse is that Miss I-Like-Pizza-Rolls-On-Our-Anniversary?"  Steve said in a rush, his face going red when she immediately burst out laughing.  "This is not funny!  You've set me up for disaster!"

"No, I set you up to be with Tony in a more casual environment so that maybe you can do something about that raging crush I can see you developing for him.  Don't try and deny it, I can read you from a mile away and you like him."  She smirked, raising an eyebrow at his feeble attempts to deny it.  "Oh hush, I'm your best friend, of course I'm right.  Now just say thank you and have a good time.  I know you're nervous, but you'll be fine.  He clearly likes you."

"What on Earth gave you that idea?"

"Steve, he ran to the elevator to ask us to go for drinks with him.  One, Tony doesn't run, ever, for anything.  Two, I've worked under him for quite a while and never once been asked to go for drinks with him.  Three, he might have asked both of us, but he was looking at you the entire time."  Natasha grinned as she ruffled Steve's hair to make it more rakishly mussed, pulling his tie off shoving it in her bag, rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt to give him a less controlled and more devilishly handsome appearance.  After taking a second to admire her work she smiled again, gesturing to the car that had just pulled up to the curb and honked.  "Now, you don't look so uptight.  Try to have a good time, okay?"


	5. I Need Air Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes are most definitely made

Steve had faced down whole platoons of Hydra with only Bucky beside him while they held the ground waiting on air support to show up, kicked grenades out of the air away from his team, and jumped out of burning buildings full of hostiles before.  He'd grown up in Brooklyn, small and weak, an easy target for bullies.  He'd done things without blinking that would make normal civilians shit their pants in fear.  And yet, as he slid into the passenger seat of Tony Stark's car, he prayed to whatever God would listen for help that he could get through this night in one piece. 

"Ready?"  Tony asked, his eyes darting down to the bare patch of Steve's chest mow visible where his tie and collar had been before Natasha interfered, the billionaire clearing his throat nervously.  Steve wasn't sure whether to kill her from embarrassment or kiss her for her genius.  "So this bar.  I've never been there before personally... well, not that I remember anyways, so I can't really say for sure.  Should be a good time though, since Pepper promised the tab was on her tonight.

"Just keep me away from tequila."  Steve said it a laugh, running a hand distractedly through his hair. 

"Is that what you were drinking when you told me I was rude during out interview?"

"Oh God, don't remind me."  Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.  "Yeah, it was. Nat brought it over thinking it would make me feel better, and its not like I expected any professional business after how the interview went, so I didn't assume... I'm sorry about that, by the way."

"Oh shush, it's fine. It was kind of cute actually, in a drunken frat boy kind of way.  But seriously, don't be embarrassed.  It was kind of nice to know you're capable of being relaxed.  You seem so put together, even with the anxiety thing, like you've always got your thoughts in order and know what your goal is.  I envy that." Tony shot him a smile, both of them jumping when Steve's phone rang.  "Natasha already checking up on you?"

"No... I'm sorry, but I need to take this call."  He scrambled to answer the phone, anxiously tapping his foot up and down, his spine going dangerous straight.  "Captain Rogers speaking."

_"Hey Steve."_

"Fuck, Bucky!"  Steve relaxed back into the seat, Tony shooting him a curious look but refraining from commenting.  "Is everything okay?  You don't usually have time to call."

_"Not usually in a place with a secure line long enough to, but hey, first time for everything I guess."_

"How's your mission going?  Where are you again, Paraguay?" 

_"Something like that, yeah, but its all hush hush you know how it is.  Even on a secure line I can't really talk about it much.  But no more war talk.  How are you?"_

"Good, I'm good.  Finally got a job, thanks to Nat mostly."  He smiled, rolling his eyes when beside him Tony scoffed and shook his head.  "It's with Stark Tech actually, head of marketing."

_"Shit Stevie, good on you!  Finally using that art degree, I'm proud of you!  Looks like I need to buy you dinner as congratulations when I get home huh?"_

"Fuck no, I'll buy you dinner.  You're the one coming back from overseas, not me."  He went quiet, suddenly serious.  Fiddling with the edge of his seat belt he cleared his throat.  "Any... any word on when they're letting you come home yet Buck?"

_"...Not yet, but I know this is supposed to be my last mission.  I finally got that out of them at least.  They tried to convince me to stay on a while longer, but I told them I have things to attend to back home and I think they understood.  Once this is over, wherever they send me this time, when I get back I'll be coming home to Brooklyn."_

"Good, that's great.  You better get through this in one piece then, you hear me?"  Steve gave a watery laugh, wiping  stray tear on the back of his hand.  "Seriously though, be safe out there okay?"

_"Always.  Alright, I have to go, they're signalling for the briefing to start. See you soon Steve, bye!"_

"Bye Bucky."  Taking a deep breath Steve hung up the phone, placing it back into his pocket with shaking hands.  Tony handed him his pocket handkerchief to dry his eyes.  "Sorry about that.  He doesn't get a chance to call often since he's still active duty overseas."

"No worries, I understand.  War buddy or something, I'm guessing?"  Tony asked, his tone carefully measured.  For some reason, Steve felt slightly smothered, like something big hinged on his response.  He stared at his boss for a long moment, weighing his words as he twisted Tony's handkerchief anxiously in his hands.

"Grew up together, actually.  Bucky's been my best friend my whole life, was there when my mother died, let me stay with him during school.  We enlisted together, ran in the same unit.  He took over leadership when I was discharged."  Steve said, his eyebrows knitting together.  The tension was palpable, but he couldn't for the life of him understand why Tony would be so suddenly upset with him.  "I'll have to text Natasha and tell her I heard from Buck.  She's probably the only other person he'd been close to in a really long time that wasn't family.  They actually went on a few dates before Natasha met Clint during college."

Tony didn't say anything, but the tension eased considerably.  They didn't talk the rest of the way to the bar, Steve preferring the silence to work out his own thoughts.  There had been tension, he was sure of it, when he talked about Bucky with Tony.  He hadn't been imagining it, had he?  But why would Tony care about his best friend when they'd never even met?

"We're here."  Steve snapped back to the present, blinking up at the building they'd pulled up to the sidewalk outside.

"I though you said it was a bar."  Steve said softly, raising an eyebrow when Tony shrugged.  "This is a nightclub."

"And it had a pretty good bar in it or so I'm told.  C'mon, Pepper's waiting for us."  Tony smirked, getting out of the car without another word.  Steve followed after him nervously, hurriedly shoving the handkerchief into his pocket as he went.  Tony casually looped his arm with his, waving a hand with a lazy smile towards the paparazzi hurriedly snapping photographs as they hurried passed the line and inside.  Though he was sure his boss would deny it, he was sure Tony had strategically blocked Steve's face from view with his hand when he waved.  The thought made warmth blossom in his chest but it was quickly pushed aside as Tony led him into the confusion of strobe lighting, low hanging fog, and the clatter of electronica blasting through the sea of bodies converging on them. 

"I can see Pep over near the bar.  Hold tight Cap, just think of it as a high stress mission okay?  I'll get you through this, promise."  Tony shouted in his ear, pulling back to smile at him before lacing their hands and dragging him purposefully though the crowd of bodies.  Steve tightened his grip nervously, going slightly pink at the shiver of amused laughter he felt drift down Tony's arm into his hand.  As they made it out on the other side, Pepper set down her martini with an amused smile, glancing down at their joined hands.  Steve quickly let go, smoothing down his shirt nervously as Tony rushed over to her to shake hands with the people she was sitting with. Excusing himself to go to the bar, Steve took a deep breath and ordered himself a beer. It felt a little weird to put it on Pepper's tab, but he trusted Tony wouldn't tell him that it was fine if it wasn't.  He absently watched Tony, standing beside Pepper and the table occupied with other business people deep in conversation, wondering if he was going to spend all night waiting for the conversation to include him or worse, if Tony expected him to dance.

The thought made him feel equal thoughts queasy and intrigued.  Dancing with Tony Stark... did he even dare to dream of such a thing?  Trying to squish his nerves at the idea he downed his beer and ordered another, then another, unsure how long he was expected to wait for Tony to be done with business.

"Not your scene either, huh?"  Steve looked around and the woman who had sidled up next to him, motioning to the bartender to get her a whiskey sour.  She smiled, offering him her hand.  "The name's Peggy."

"Steve."  They shook, the way Peggy looked at him over the edge of her glass as she took a drink doing havoc on his nerves.  "So... how do you know Tony and Pepper?"

"Work for the London office of a different company.  I'm in town on business and Pepper invited me and my partner from the New York office out to get drinks.  Lucky me she did."  She smiled, winking as she sipped her drink.  Steve went pink, taking another drink from his beer to avoid having to respond.  Not like he knew what to say to that anyways.  Socializing had never been his strongest area. 

"Well, I hope you're having a good time while you're here in New York."  He said, smiling weakly at her before shooting another look back at his boss.  Tony caught his eye and smiled, raising a hand to indicate he'd be done in a minute.  Steve highly doubted that, but waved back at him anyways.

"Do you want to dance?"  He blinked at her, shaking his head as she threw back the rest of her drink and set the glass down on the bar, motioning for him to take her hand.  "Oh come on, it'll be fun.  Besides, Tony's a little busy.  I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow you for a few minutes."

"I don't dance, really.  And not in that I'm too cool to dance way, in the I am an awkward ball of limbs that have no rhythm kind of way."  He said hurriedly, shaking his head as Peggy took his beer and set it aside.  Grabbing his hand she pulled him out towards the edge of the throng of people, Steve following for fear that he might accidentally hurt her if he struggled.  She grinned at him like she knew what he was thinking, and his mind raced nervously.  This woman was dangerous and alluring to him in equal measure.  "Really, whenever I try its a lot of flailing and disaster usually follows.  Once in college, I smacked a girl's glasses off her face."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can manage.  I have excellent reflexes."  She smiled, pulling him forward so that their hips brushed.  He tried to jerk away, swallowing against his nerves as she situated his hands on her hips, looping hers over his shoulders so that he was bent slightly forward towards her.  He wished he hadn't drank so much as she pulled him deeper and deeper out onto the dance floor.  It was making everything that much harder to cope with.  "Just move with the beat."

"What beat?" Steve asked, sighing when she laughed.  He wasn't joking, everything around him pounding in his ears like his eardrums were going to bleed from all the bass and noise.  Peggy moved distractingly against him making his mouth go dry.  He tried to follow her rhythm, but still felt stiff and anxious.  She kept smiling up at him in a way that made him feel like she was in one some joke he wasn't and it made his already spinning head hurt.

"So what do you do at Stark Tech?"  She shouted over the music, swaying their hips together.  He wishes she wouldn't try to do that and talk to him at the same time. It was all incredibly overwhelming.

"Head of marketing."  He shouted back, trying to look over back at the bar.  He couldn't see Tony anywhere.

"Interesting."  She reached up and turned his face back to hers, still smiling aim strangely.  She kept talking to him, but he couldn't make out anything she was saying.  Finally a slightly quieter song came on just as she leaned up to his ear.  "Let me buy you dinner, this Monday night.  I'll call your office to schedule."

"I don't know..."

"Oh come on, it's just dinner.  What will it hurt?"  She smiled when he nodded, glancing over his shoulder.  She pulled away from him, Steve immediately getting buffeted by the crowd putting more distance between them.  "Well this had been a vastly better evening than I expected.  See you tomorrow Steve."

"Wait!"  He tried to follow her, but the crowd quickly swallowed her.  His head swam from the alcohol and the noise around him, the bodies pressing in on him making him feel trapped.  There was a ringing in his ears undercutting everything else that he kept trying to push to the back of his mind that reminded him of the sound flash bangs made. Without caring he started trying to carefully shove through the crowd towards the exit, trying not to care at the way people around him were looking at him like he was some kind of freak for being very clearly uncomfortable.  Finally he found the exit, stumbling out into the chill night air. 

As air filled his lungs he calmed, looking up at the buildings around him.  It took him about ten seconds to realize he had no idea which part of the city he was in, and about ten more to remember he didn't have any cash on him for a taxi since he'd forgotten his wallet at home that morning.  Sighing he shoved his hands into his pockets and started heading right, back the way they had driven from after work. 

"Rogers, wait up!"  Steve turned, stonily staring at Tony as he hurried over to him.

"Hey boss."  He said, tony raising an eyebrow at the formality in his tone.

"Where's the fire?  The night's still young...ish.  Sorry that took so long.  Hammer Tech guys never know when to stop, whether its about talking or making poorly coded robotics."  His grin faltered when he saw Steve wasn't amused by what he had assumed would be a joke.  "You okay?"

"No Tony, I'm not okay."  Steve said in a measured tone, his jaw clenched.  Looking away he stared up at the city skyline, willing himself not to get too emotional.  "I know we don't know each other very well, so let me explain a few things about myself you seem to have missed somehow.  First, I don't do clubs.  I barely do bars, and Natasha practically had to threaten me to come after accepting your invitation for me because she knew I would have said no if given the chance.  Second, if I'm invited anywhere, I kind of expect to be included in the conversation, not shunted off to the bar to sit by myself while I wait for you to have time for me."

"Look, I already said I'm sorry about that, I don't know why-"

"I wasn't finished yet!"  Steve snapped, Tony falling immediately silent.  Steve walked a few steps away, clenching and clenching his hands trying to retain his tenuous grip on his sanity.  "You know what got me the most?  What the worst thing was?  I trusted you when you said you'd get me through that."

"Steve..."

"I mean, am I an idiot or what?  I actually thought for a second... fuck, never mind."  Steve sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.  He suddenly felt incredibly tired at the very idea of continuing this conversation.  "Just... goodnight Tony."

"Let me at least drive you home."  Tony offered, taking a step after him.  Steve held up a hand to stop him, shaking his head. 

"It's fine, the air will do me some good after... all this."  Steve gestured vaguely at the club, turning away.  "See you Monday at work."

"Yeah..."

He could have sworn there was disappointment in Tony's voice.  But no, he reasoned with himself, he was projecting what he wanted to be there.  How could he even begin to think Tony Stark might have even cared about him for two seconds after this disaster of an evening?  No one in their right mind would assume Steve would be comfortable at a club, let alone leave him alone in one if they did manage to get him there.  He had to be projecting.  Tony didn't care.

Steve was halfway home before he remembered Tony's handkerchief in his pocket.  He closed his fingers around it, swallowing against the lump in his throat.


	6. Sleeping with the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I know I messed up and had Peggy say last chapter that she was going to call Steve's office to set up a time for dinner the next day... but it was a Saturday so he wouldn't have been at the office... so yeah... I went back and fixed it in the last chapter, so it'll make more sense this chapter too.

"Steve, the fuck are you doing home at this hour?  Aren't you supposed to be out seducing your boss?" 

"Aren't you supposed to be not in my apartment... or at least wearing some pants?"

"Huh, I guess I forgot to put those back on."  Clint grinned, smirking when Steve went red and shoved passed him to get into the fridge.  Taking a swig straight from the carton, Clint slid the milk back inside before leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed expectantly.  "So, how did it go?"

"How did what go?"  Steve asked absently, shutting the door.  He reached into one of the upper cabinets for a plate, grabbing the bread to finish putting himself together a sandwich. 

"Seducing your -"

"First of all," Steve turned on him, shaking the knife he was using to spread mayonnaise on his bread at his friend's face.  Laughing Clint stepped out of the way, a glob flying onto the ground that he toes off the linoleum with his sock. "I didn't go out to seduce my boss.  Tony invited me and Natasha - whom I sure gave you this shoddy information in the first place - and she said she couldn't come but said I was free.  I would have said no.  Second of all... if I was trying to seduce him..."

"Which you clearly don't want."  Clint grinned.

"Right, which I don't... don't want."  Steve sighed, refusing to look back up at his friend.  He could tell his face was red and didn't want to see the smug no doubt aimed his way.  "If that was my intent, how do you think it went if I'm home at this hour?"

"Pretty damn shitty."

"Hey Nat, glad to see you guys screwed on my sofa again."  Steve sighed, though at this point in their friendship he'd walked in on Natasha and Clint going at it so much that it didn't bother him anymore.  And, he couldn't help but admit, he was glad at least he'd gotten home afterwards rather than during.  He still went pink whenever Bucky brought up the time they'd drunkenly come home while the couple had been going at it and Steve, hopped up on way too much tequila, had tried to convince them to let him sketch them having sex.

"Of course, when I know you're supposed to be out, and I have a key given to me by one of the tenants."  She grinned, perching on the back of the sofa.  "So I'm guessing it went poorly?"

"And what gave you that correct impression?"  He sighed, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

"Well, my first clue was a text from Tony that just said fuck in all capitol letters."  She said quietly, lifting up her phone screen for him to see.  Steve swallowed, looking up at her worried face.  "Tell me what happened, please?"

"It was a disaster."  Steve sighed, setting his plate aside.  He was starting to lose him appetite just thinking about his evening.  "He took me to a club - not a bar, but it had a bar in it as he so helpfully pointed out.  Then he let me at the bar alone so he could sweet talk some businessmen with Pepper.  Then some woman from a rival company asked me to dance and then left me in the middle of a crowd after convincing me to let her take me to dinner.  I booked it out of there at that point.  Tony followed, and he wouldn't really listen when I tried to tell him what was wrong, so I might have snapped at him and then insisted on walking home.  Fuck, Nat, I really hope I didn't fuck things up at work.  What if he doesn't want to keep me on because of this?"

"Who exactly asked you to dinner again?"  Natasha sat up a little straighter, his lips pursed. 

"Is that really all you took away from that?"  Steve asked a little more bitingly than he'd meant to.  She rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. Tony was an inconsiderate asshole who doesn't know how to tell someone how he feels and no doubt used humor or defensiveness to shield showing how bad he felt about not showing you a good time.  I'm used to Tony Fuck Ups by now, and honestly, it sounds like he didn't do too much wrong compared to how it could have been.  I know it might sound like I'm defending him too much or like I'm being too harsh, but you really don't seem to see the effort he's putting into being nice to you.  Its a lot more than he's done for most people."  She said pointedly, Clint whistling under his breathe and heading into the other room out of sight.  "Yes, he can be difficult, and yes, he messed up. But this is a man I've seen fire everyone from assistants to the head of fabrications just because he didn't like their shoes or he took them on a date and he didn't like them anymore.  Since he hasn't called me to set up a new employee search - and yes, he's called me in the middle of the night drunk off his ass to tell me to set up wanted ads and look at potential candidates right after a date goes sour - he clearly isn't firing you.  So consider yourself lucky that at least around you, he seems to have managed to grow a heart."

Steve didn't say anything, staring down at his feet for a long while.  He heard Natasha asked again who had asked him to dinner, but he couldn't form the words to tell her who it was and left it unanswered hanging in the air around them.  He was vaguely aware of the door of his apartment opening and closing, signally Clint and Natasha's departure, but he didn't really register he was alone at first.

He kept his hand in his pocket closed tight around Tony's handkerchief.

 

*           *           *           *           *

 

All weekend, Steve didn't answer his phone.

Natasha cried over brunch on Sunday, Clint trying to assure her that she hadn't ruined their friendship, but even he had to admit the radio silence was disturbing.  By Sunday evening when Tony called her to check his schedule for the following day, casually asking if she'd heard from Steve, she almost starting crying on the phone when she lied and said she hadn't seen hi since Friday after work when they left together. 

On Monday, Natasha and Tony both rounded the Marketing Department floor every twenty minutes or so, neither one of hem wanting to admit that they both thought Steve wasn't going to show up.  Eventually they both gave up and went to wait inside his office together, agreeing that while the cardio might be nice from all the walking they were doing, if no work was going to get done they might as well sit down and admit it.  Jane and Darcy didn't really know what to do with themselves, struggling to get the nervous team to work with Tony so close by.  Even though he rarely glanced way from the door, any time he did glance over at what the peons were working on, something quickly clattered to the floor. 

When Steve did show up, he stopped short just inside the door, Tony and him locking eyes as Natasha looked between them worriedly.  Setting down the things he was carrying just inside the door he walked purposefully over to Tony.  Once he got there he fumbled, clearly losing his nerve.  Natasha shot a death glare at the staff who had stopped working to watch what appeared to be brewing into a dramatic explosion, the clatter of workers baking Steve out of his trance. 

"Can I speak with you in my office, perhaps?"  Steve asked, gesturing uselessly. Tony nodded and headed inside, Steve rounding back to pick up his things before following him in.  As he passed Nat he kissed her cheek and whispered they'd talk later, smiling softly when she bumped him with her hip and headed out to go back to her own office.  Shutting the door behind him he turned back to his boss, his nerves remounting. 

"So what are all those canvases?"  Tony asked, picking one of them up.

"They're more concrete concepts for the current project you had me working on.  Spent all weekend on them.  I was actually going to send them by your office later today for you to look over."  Steve said nervously, setting up some of the others for him to look at.

"These are... exactly what I wanted."  Tony said excitedly, picking up two of the canvases at a time to examine them more closely.  "Fuck, good work Rogers.  These are great.  Have your team get some working models for the packaging mocked up for us to look over.  And if you don't mind, could you get me a proof of these using cherry red and gold, just to see what it looks like?"

"Of course, I'll get right on it.  Glad you approve."  Steve said, signg with relief.  As Tony thumbed over one of the canvases he clearly his throat to get his attention again.  "Ummm... I wanted to apologize."

"For what?"  Tony asked, Steve raising an eyebrow at him.  He sounded genuinely confused. 

"For snapping at you Friday and walking out like... well, I was a bit of a dick, really.  And I see that now.  I'd gotten worked up and was uncomfortable, so I took it out of you and that wasn't fair of me.  So, I'm sorry."  Steve said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"So Natasha's been doing damage control, that brat lied and told me she hadn't heard from you."  Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  "Look,  won't lie to you Rogers-"

"Steve."

"...Steve."  Tony said, clearing his throat a little.  He shoved his hands into his pockets, his face set with grim determination.  "I'm an asshole, and I don't hide that.  I don't always care about how other people feel and just do what's best for me, and even when I know how someone feels, I usually don't care to accommodate for them.  I can be cruel, and thoughtless... but I don't want to be the person I was made into by this job, by my upbringing.  I want... so much more than all this.  I was... well... that doesn't matter now.  And I'm sorry that... I made you feel uncomfortable.  That was never my intention." 

"I know.  I might have meant everything I said, but I didn't have to be so combative about it."

"You were a lot nicer than most of my failed dates.  At least I didn't end up on the cover of a tabloid with a splash page of you throwing a drink on me."

"So... that was supposed to be a date?"  Steve asked quietly.  His heart was beating a million times a minute in his throat as he locked eyes with his boss, waiting. 

"Well.... yes, but I guess... I fucked that up, didn't I?"  Tony grinned sadly, straightening his tie.  "Would you be willing to... let me try again?  I'll take you to dinner, maybe tonight?"

"I would love to... but I have plans tonight.  I'm free any other day this week though."  Steve said, looking away as he blushed and wishing fervently that he'd never agreed to go to dinner with Peggy.

"Um, boss-man?  Like, Beefcake Boss-man, not Top Boss-man."  Darcy said, sticking her head inside the office.  Steve raised an eyebrow at her but took the paper she handed to him.  "A woman named Peggy Carter called to remind you that you're supposed to have dinner with her tonight?  She said she'll send a car to your apartment at six for your reservations."

"I never told her my address."

"I did, when she asked.  I guess I should have gotten permission first, but since you agreed to a date, I'm assuming it's fine?  Anyways, I'll just leave this post it with you and get back to my job."  Darcy slapped a heart shaped post it onto the wall by the door and walked out quickly, shutting the door behind her.

"So..."

"Send the mock ups to my office by the end of the week.  If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to."  Tony said sharply, setting down the canvas he'd been holding and striding towards the door.  Steve reached out and caught his wrist gently.  "Yes?"

"What's with the sudden formality?"  Steve said softly, his face going pink as he asked his second question.  "What about our dinner?"

"Well since it seems you've found someone else. Glad the other night wasn't a total waste for you since apparently you scored a date with the head of our biggest rival company's head of marketing." 

As Tony tore out of his office, Steve felt his heart sink.  He stepped out of his office and passed out tasks to the rest of the team, explaining the deadline and telling Darcy to cancel anything else he had for the rest of the day, then went back into his office to hide for the rest of the day.  Things, he worried, were about to get a lot more complicated.

It was fitting, he sighed later, that he'd forgotten again to give Tony's handkerchief back.


	7. Tough Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is never subtle. Steve happens to like subtle.

For the rest of the day, Steve and his team hustled to get a good start on the project details Tony had wanted them to focus on, most of the team opting to skip their lunch break when their boss refused to join them in the cafeteria.  Even though they'd only been together a short time, Steve felt the same sense of camaraderie with his team in marketing as he had with his platoon back overseas, especially when it came to Darcy and Jane.  They did their best to keep the team away from their boss, who clearly needed some time alone with his thoughts.

By mid-afternoon however, even they were starting to worry about how reserved he was being.

"So are you fasting before your date, or did you suddenly become gluten free?"  Darcy asked, waving a hand in front of his face.  He jumped slightly, finally looking up at her and the plate of cookies she was carefully shaking at him.  "I've said your name like five times dude.  Eat your cookies and cheer up already."

"Darcy, you could try being nicer about it."  Jane sighed, entering the office and shutting the door behind her.  She gave her companion a pointed look, the other girl rolling her eyes with a sigh.  Setting the cookies down she left the office slamming the door more forcefully then was strictly necessary.  "Sorry about her."

"Is something going on with you two?  You've been standoffish to each other all day."  Steve asked, taking one of the cookies.  Somehow Darcy always figured out his favorites - snicker-doodles in this case - and made sure they were on hand at all times.

"Its nothing... she's just... I don't know WHY she cares so much, but I had a date with Thor, the head of fabrications?  She's been odd and moody ever since I told her.  I mean, it didn't go well, not that she asked.  He's a little too... well, not my type, I guess."  She sighed, straightening her ponytail nervously.  "Anyways, that's not what I came to talk to you about.  What's wrong?  What did Tony want this morning?  He's not replacing you is he, because I can't handle another change in management, not when things around here were finally coming together.  It would ruin the team."

"No, it's not that... at least I don't think so.  Natasha would tell me if he was looking for my replacement, I'm sure, so don't worry.  It's... a personal problem between us.  Sort of like you and Darcy."  He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  "Its not like I knew Peggy was with our biggest rival company when I agree to dinner with her, but Tony doesn't seem to care." 

"Did you really not check out the competition at all when you took this job?  Miss Carter is all over the news with her innovated marketing techniques and snappy business dressing."  Jane asked incredulously, shaking her head when he turned red but said nothing.  "Well it can't be helped now.  I'll add getting a dossier together on all the critical people in our direct rival companies together for you by tomorrow, just to help avid this problem in future."

"Maybe I shouldn't go tonight.  What do you think?"  Steve asked.

"Honestly, the damage is done at this point.  Tony already knows you said yes, and making Miss Carter angry probably wouldn't be in your best interest.  She's clever, a lot more than most men have given her credit for.  She clawed her way into this position against a lot of opposition, and she's held her ground."  Jane stood up, heading to the door with Steve's now empty cookie plate.  "Just... be careful tonight.  I'm not saying she might try something devious since she's a rival, but it would be a mistake not to be on your guard just in case."

 

 

*               *                  *                 *                 *

 

 

"You look nice, you little traitor."

"Nice to see you too Nat."  Steve glanced up in the mirror as she entered, taking in her sour expression before going back to fixing his tie.  He'd been hoping to get out of the house before she could show up - because, knowing Natasha, she was bound to - but luck was once again not on his side.  "I'm assuming you found out who my date was with them.  Who was it that told you?  Darcy, Jane, or Tony?"

"None of the above.  She's outside in a limo waiting for you, jackass."  She snapped, flopping down on the end of his bed.  "Tell me the truth: did you know who she was when she asked you to dinner?"

"No, I didn't."  Steve sighed, finally turning to look at her.

"Well there's that at least."  She said, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

"Is that really a good thing though?  Jane seems to think it was lax of me not to look up all the rivals in the industry and that I was a moron for not knowing who sh was."  Steve said anxiously, rolling his eyes when his friend merely shrugged.  He sat down beside her holding his head in his hands.  "I don't think I'm cut out for this job Nat.  If it was just the work, fine, Tony's really happy with what me and the team are cranking out.  Everything else though?  Stark, the rivals, all this soap opera drama going on?  This isn't what I signed up for."

"Welcome to working for one of the top companies in the world."  She laughed, patting his arm.  "Why do you think I live like such a ghost?  Everything Tony and Pepper do is scrutinized by the media so of course, everyone below them tries to be careful too.  You just... missed the memo."

"If you say so."  He sighed, standing up.  "I should get going.  Did you need anything before I go?"

"Nah, I'm just going to chill and eat bad Chinese food and reading while I wait for you to get back and give me the details.  Clint's working late tonight, so it's not like I'd be doing anything anyways." She grinned, stretching out across his duvet like a particularly pleased cat.  He smiled, ruffling her hair as he passed on his way out the door. 

The drive over to the restaurant was tense.  Peggy raised an eyebrow at his stony expression as he joined her in the car and at his carefully clipped responses, but kept up the appearance of civility and amusement.  Her smile didn't start to slip until he refused her many attempts to get him to order wine or another drink while they waited for their appetizer and overlooked the entree options.

"I can see someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure this date didn't go well.  Was it that pretty redheaded girl who glared at me before heading up to what I presume was your loft while I was waiting for you?"  She asked pointedly, clicking her nails against the edge of the menu in clear annoyance.  "Should I be worried about an old girlfriend's wrath?"

"She's just a friend."

"They why the blatant hostility?"

"Did you really think no one would try and warn me that you were one of our primary rivals?  Kudos by the way, quite apt of you to assume that I had no idea who you were.  Its caused quite a stir.  Not so sure your long ranged goal, but so far so good, right?"  Steve said in a complete deadpan, looking down at the menu instead of at her.  He only looked up when she started laughing.  "I wasn't aware I said anything funny."

"Oh but you did!  So much fuss, and simply because I asked an attractive man I met at the bar after work to have dinner with me.  But sometimes I forget, everyone has to have ulterior motives in our business, especially a woman I'm guessing?" She said with a smile, but Steve felt the venom in her voice regardless of it.  "Steve, let me set the record straight.  Yes, I was aware that you were Stark's, but I didn't know yet who you were.  You were so... deliciously lost at the bar, and you're not bad to look at, so I thought I'd ask you to dinner.  Was I intrigued when you said you were head of his marketing team?  Yes, but that was just a bonus.  I thought it would help, since we had that in common."

"And why didn't you tell me we had that in common?"

"Well I don't generally make a habit of handing out my business cards to every man I ask to dinner.  Card stock isn't cheap, after all."  She said with a grin, some of the harshness leaving her face as she looked down into her wine glass.  "Can't we just have a nice dinner without this rivalry nonsense?" 

"I think I'd like that."  He smiled back carefully, setting down his menu.  "I'm sorry that I was suspicious with you."

"I understand, believe me.  After all, I can hardly believe Stark is alright with this.  He has a habit, I've heard, of interfering in employee love-lives.  More than one head of a department has defected to us or Hammer Tech after being fired for having a life outside of work that Stark didn't approve of."  She said quietly, leaning forward.  When he didn't react she raised an eyebrow.  "Maybe you're too new to have heard the stories.  They're all over the industry, I mean he'd not a subtle man, all over the tabloids every other week."

"Tony certainly had a media presence."  Steve nodded, not committing to saying anything more.  He felt uncomfortable suddenly, wising the waiter would come back around so he could get even a brief reprieve.  "Could we not talk about Tony, please?"

"First name basis, isn't that familiar?"  She said pointedly, putting her hands up with a laugh when he frowned at her in response.  "Oh no need to glower at me like that, I'll let it go.  We don't have to talk about Tony."

"Why not, I've been told I'm the life of the party."

Steve felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as Tony and some pretty young blonde woman he'd never seen before appeared next to them, Peggy and his boss shaking hands as Steve tried to get his pulse under control.  He was making a mental note to murder Natasha when he got home if she knew anything about this when he heard Tony saying something about moving two tables together.

"I don't think they'd really allow that, Mr. Stark."  Peggy said in a chilled tone, clearly sure he was here to interfere.

"Nonsense, they don't mind I'm sure.  Besides, I own the building so it's not like they have a choice in the matter."  He grinned, motioning for a waiter to shove two tables together.  Noting the look of surprise on Peggy's face he smirked, dropping into the seat next to Steve.  "What, didn't you know Miss Carter?  And here I was told you were notorious for doing your homework on me and my company.  I walked by the place after lunch today and decided it looked so charming, I had to own it."

"I'm sure that's what it was, and not that you saw me in here making reservations for my date with your head of marketing."  She said softly, taking a long sip of her wine. 

Steve was about to say something when he felt a large, warm hand close over his upper thigh under the table.  Swallowing he chanced a glance sideways at Tony who was currently locked in a resolute staring match with Peggy and seemed, at least, to be ignoring him.  He cleared his throat and shifted, the hand closing a little more firmly over his leg making his blush.

"Alright there Rogers?"  Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at him when he didn't response.  "I mean, I know it looked like things weren't going particularly well when I walked over here, but I didn't think it would be this awkward."

"We were having a lovely time before you showed up."  Peggy said, her smile dangerously pointed.  Tony returned one in full, his date giggling tipsily and resting her head on the other woman's shoulder.  As she looked down at her, Tony squeezed his leg, making his face heat up again.  This time their eyes met, and the slight look of remorse in Tony's eyes took his breath away.  He looked away just as Peggy turned back to them having successfully guided the blonde's head down onto the table and off of her.  "Let me be frank, Mr. Stark.  Is there a reason you're here to ruin our date?"

"Oh, hardball, is that what you want precious?  You clearly don't know who you're dealing with here honey, but I'll be happy to show you how the big leagues operate."  Tony said, squeezing his thigh one last time before letting go to pull out his phone.  Steve's stomach dropped again as he recognized his building on the cover of a news website.  "Alright, let me pitch this to you: I know this date was a sham and a set up to try and see what we've got in the pipeline.  I sent my assistant to monitor Rogers's apartment, just to be safe, and low and behold, after she 'stepped out' to head home - a good ruse by the way, Natasha really is getting good at climbing fire escapes, such a useful habit - two of your people where caught breaking into his house.  I'm sure they were looking for his sketches or project specs, but have no fear, Natasha already cleared everything out long before they showed up.  Oh, and called the cops before slipping back in to make a citizen's arrest and retain them until the police could show up."

"I don't appreciate that accusations, Mr. Stark.  I clearly had nothing to do with that."  Peggy said carefully, Steve swallowing against the lump forming in his throat.

"Oh I'm sure they won't find any links between those common criminals and you or your company, you'll have covered your tracks too well.  Just know that I know what you're doing, and I'm already ten steps ahead of you."  Tony stood up, snapping his fingers at his date.  She sprung up, letting him slip her out of her seat so they could leave as Tony pulled an absurd stack of bills out of his pocket and dropped it on the table.  "Dinner's on me. Have a nice rest of your evening, excuse us."

Neither one of them spoke as the waiters came over to put the tables back into their normal order and set down their soups, Steve staring down at the table cloth as his mind struggled to catch up to the myriad of emotions he was feeling. 

"Steve..."

"I should go."  He stood up, refusing to look at Peggy as he pulled on his jacket.  "Have a nice life, Miss Carter.  And good attempt, I'm sure if it was anyone other than Tony that you tried to con, it would have worked."

 

 

*               *                  *                 *                 *

 

 

After briefly talking to the police, they allowed him back into his apartment to get some things so that he could go stay somewhere else for the night since his house was now technically a crime scene.  Natasha looked up as he entered, but he ignored her, shoving an extra pair of clothes into his bag and leaving his phone number with a deputy so he would know when he could come home before heading out.

Sam didn't asked questions when he showed up at his place at eleven at night looking like he'd been to hell and back, he just stepped back and let him friend crash on the couch to cry himself out.

When he finally went home the next day, he pulled down all the police tape left behind and put everything back where it belonged, crumbling up the apology note from Natasha without reading it.  He didn't want to hear empty words about how she was sorry she'd lied and done Tony's dirty work without even telling him what was going on.  He knew he couldn't blame her forever, and that Clint had alluded to some of Natasha's work as Stark's assistant was less conventional, but he'd never assumed that would come between them in any way.  Now that it had, he wasn't entirely sure where that left them.

When he got to work the next day, Jane was waiting for him in the lobby, tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"  He asked, following her when she led him into a side room on the first floor that was utilized mostly for tours and more casual meetings.  "Jane?"

"We've been hacked.  Last night our systems were raided and wiped.  Our security system is the best one that there is, but I don't... they're working on recovery and trying to trace the IP to whoever did this, we don't even know if they took anything at this point or just shoved in a virus to corrupt our data.  We lost everything but your physical work you did yourself, everything."  She started crying, Steve pulling her into a comforting hug as he mind spun.

"Has Tony already been notified?"

"He insisted on assisting IT himself to try and fix the problem.  He coded the security protocols himself, after all.  No one knows it better than him."

Steve released her and headed straight for the elevator, the clack of her heels barely registering over the blood currently rushing in his ears.  When they got to their floor, she hung back nervously as Steve rushed into the office taking in the chaos as his team scrambled around looking thought the back wall of pinned up notes and concepts for the most recent models to begin reworking everything they'd lost, all of their computers taken over by men and women he had never seen before all furiously typing.  He stopped to give Darcy and quick hug of encouragement after seeing her lost look before heading straight into his office.

Tony was on his computer, sleeves shoved up to his elbows and hair mussed from his hand no doubt running through it over and over in frustration.  The small mountain of empty paper coffee cups in the trash can beside his desk wasn't a welcome sight.  Steve carefully shut the door, settling down in the seat in front of his desk watching his boss silently.

"She really did a fucking number on us."  Steve winced at Tony's harsh tone, but stayed quiet.  He felt like he deserved it for setting all off this into motion, even if it had been unintentionally.  "I've got to hand it to her, I didn't think she even had anyone in the wings good enough with computers to stand against my JARVIS operating system.  They've covered their tracks so well.  I don't know what they saw, if they took anything, if they just wiped us to fuck with us.  Nothing."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since last night when the alarm triggered.  JARVIS sends the alerts to IT and my phone immediately if a disturbance is felt in the force, so I was the first on site."  He said tiredly, rubbing his eyes.  He reached for his coffee cup, cursing in annoyance and flinging it to the ground when he found it empty. 

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I think you've done enough damage to the company for the time being, don't you?"  Tony snapped, Steve's gaze dropping immediately to his lap.  Tony cursed again, his feverish typing stopping.  "I'm... Steve, I'm sorry.  I know this isn't what you thought would happen.  I don't blame you, not really.  But fuck... she used you, you see that right?"

"God, do you think I'm a moron?  Of course I see that!  And I feel fucking awful about it, believe me.  But what was I supposed to do Tony?  Not say yes when a pretty girl approached me after you left me alone and asked me to dinner?  When you found out you stormed out without saying anything to me.  You could have warned me, Tony.  You could have... fuck."  Steve rested his head in his hands, unable to look back up and let his boss see the tears in his eyes.  "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this job."

"Maybe you aren't."

Steve swallowed, taking a deep breath before looking up at him.  Heat flooded his face and anger simmered just under his skin, threatening to burst.  "So what she said about you firing people for their out of work lives is true after all, huh?"

"Fuck you.  This isn't about your damn date!"  Tony snapped, slamming his fist down on the desk. 

"Oh, isn't it?  Because you've been a complete jackass ever since you found out about it."  Steve shouted back.  "You showed up in the middle of our date just to gloat that you've figured her scheme out, without caring how embarrassed and awful I felt.  She used me, Tony, but so did you!  You could have told me what was going on, could have asked me to cancel once you knew what she was doing, but you fucking didn't.  You set me up too!"

"Everything isn't fucking about you!"  He shouted back, knocking over the trashcan sending cups flying across the office floor.  "This is about being a pawn in a scheme that could cost us months of progress and countless hours trying to fix the systems this place is built on.  Its about the fantasy world you live in where you get to have a life without thinking about the ramifications to your work at a multi-billion dollar company in a vicious market.  Its about your inability to understand that I've been far more lenient on you than I have on anyone in the past because..."

"Because what?"  Steve snapped back, setting his jaw.

"Fuck. You."  Tony hissed.  "This was a mistake.  Hiring you, taking you to the club, asking you to dinner, all of it.  All of it a big fucking mistake."

"Clearly.  How the hell did I ever think I could be interested in someone like you?"

Tony looked up at him sharply, the fury on his face half stuck between disbelief and regret.  Steve's own face felt hot.  He'd been too wrapped up in anger to stop the confession in time, and knew he couldn't take it back now.  A timid knock sounded at the door, both of them glaring at the door as Darcy opened it.

"Don't shoot the messenger, alright?"  She said defiantly, walking over to set her tablet down on the desk between them.  "I don't know how to help with the hacked system, but I do know how to search the web, and I found this.  Several news outlets are already clamoring for interviews with the company about their innovative new approach."

Steve's designs stared up at them from the screen, a similar but less refined looking robot taking the place of the StarkTech one, the logos branded all over the designs bearing Peggy's company name.

"Thank you Miss Lewis.  I'll get this back to you as soon as I've looked this over."  Tony said in a calm voice, picking up her tablet as she scurried out of the office.  "They used... everything.  Even our specs.  If we come out with ours now, it'll look like we're copying them.  Fuck.  We'll need to do a complete redesign just to save face at this point, or scrap the whole project.  This... is a disaster."

"I'm so sorry."

Tony looked up, carefully setting the tablet down on the desk.  He got up carefully and walked around it to Steve, carefully kneeling next to him where he sat crying with his head in his hands. 

"Why don't you head home?  There's nothing more you can do here today."  Tony said softly, resting his hand on his knee.  "We can... discuss what needs to be done tomorrow."

"Why aren't you firing me?"  Steve asked desperately, looking up from his hands to find Tony watching him carefully.  "I fucked up, I know I fucked up, and you said you'd be hard on me.  What do you want, Tony?" 

"I... don't know.  I just know I don't want to get rid of you, even after all this."  He sighed, shaking his head.  "Go home and get some rest.  And... forgive Natasha.  She only did what I asked her to, and she begged me to either tell you or let her tell you what was going on."

Tony paged Natasha to come up to the office, sending them both home to rest and recover.  Both of them cried on the car ride back to his apartment and apologized, catching each other up on what had happened the night before and Steve showing her the damage Peggy and her company had already wrought.  By the time they got to Steve's apartment, they both collapsed onto his bed in their work clothes and fell fast asleep after texting Clint so he'd know where Nat was when he got off work.

 

 

*               *                  *                 *                 *

 

 The next few week flew by.  Tony spent most of his time in the Marketing Department fixing the computers and hashing things out with Steve, though most of the IT personnel were allowed to return to their own department and pursue other issues within the company.  The department hammered out a new marketing design that Tony approved of, while everyone from fabrications to electrical worked to come up with ways to make the design better than it had been and even more advanced than their stolen specs had been.  

Just when Steve was starting to feel comfortable that things were looking up, he got the call.

"Hello?"

" _Captain Rogers?"_

"Speaking." 

_"This is Agent Phil Coulson.  I'm sorry to have to tell you this Captain, but will all remaining family deceased, you were listed as Sergent Barnes's emergency contact number."_

"Did something happen to Bucky?"  Steve glanced up to his open office door, catching Tony's eye where he stood over with Darcy sampling her new cobbler recipe.  He made his way over slowly, a growing look of concern lighting his eyes. 

" _There was an ambush on a train they were sent in to rescue hostages from.  Sergent Barnes attempted to shield one of them, and was blown through the train and down the mountain.  We have him in transport now on his way to a medical facility in the United States for treatment, but he's currently in critical condition."_

"Where are they taking him?"

_"I'm afraid that at the time that's classified-"_

"Damn it Phil, where are they taking Bucky?!"

_"...I'll text you the location."_

Hanging up without saying anything else he met Tony halfway, searching for the words and stability to say them, but finding himself coming up empty.  Taking a deep breathe Tony rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Go, I'll tell my driver you're heading down to the garage and get Natasha to meet you there."

"Thank you."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I had Tony do the Bruce Wayne thing at dinner, I couldn't resist ;)


	8. Comatose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve loves his best friend more than he hates hospitals

_Breathe in for a count of four, hold for seven, exhale for eight._

All he’d had to say as he pulled Natasha into the limo was ‘ _Bucky got hurt’_ for her to understand, her phone in one hand a second later to let Clint know what was going on while her other clasped tightly onto Steve’s for dear life.  The ride to the hospital was tense to say the least.  For a moment Steve wished he’d let Darcy come with them when she’d offered – neither he nor Natasha dealt much in false promises or reassurances, and it would have been nice to hear things were going to be okay from someone even if it was probably a lie.

Initially the doctors had refused to tell Steve anything when they arrived, the fact that he was an emergency contact but not technically family making them wary to reveal any information other than that they’d just have to wait and see.  It wasn’t terribly busy, so Steve couldn’t understand why every person he asked for some sort of news gave him a bored expression and no information before passing the problem off onto someone else.  After getting the run around for several minutes Natasha finally snapped, grabbing the lapels of the nearest doctor to stop him as he wandered by.

“Look, it’s already been a rough few weeks for us, and now our best friend is potentially dying but no one will tell us anything.  What is the fucking status for Sargent James Barnes?”  She asked desperately, the doctor’s eyebrows knitting together with worry as he extricated himself carefully from her grip.

“You would need to speak with reception about a patient’s status.”

“We tried that already!  They keep telling us since we’re not family-”

“Then there’s nothing we can tell you at this time, I apologies.”

“Captain Rogers is listed as his emergency contact!  Why can’t you tell his EMERGENCY CONTACT WHAT THE EMERGENCY IS?!  What, we’re not blood so you won’t tell us, but it was certainly enough for a call from the military to tell us SOMETHING was very wrong?  Bucky trusted Steve enough to have him be the one to get the call.  How does that make any sense?!”  She shrieked, a few of the nurses shooting them worried looks.  Pointing a finger in his face she hisses at him, angry tears clinging to her eyelashes. “If you don’t tell us what’s going on this fucking second, I swear to God I’m going to call my boss and demand he retract any further funding from this poor excuse for a hospital immediately, not to mention severe any contracts you might already have in place with him.” 

“Miss, resorting to empty threats won’t get you what you want.”

“Steve, please dial Mr. Stark for me, tell him it’s urgent.”

Their tone changed almost immediately after that.  Within minutes they were rushed through to the critical care unit to wait for him to get out of surgery, one of the surgeons explaining that there was a lot of blood loss from the fall and interior organ damage but that they were hopeful before leaving them in the waiting area with an anxious resident left to keep an eye on them as they waited.  Natasha muttered darkly under her breath in Russian as they waited while Steve sat silently beside her wringing his hands and praying silently that his best friend would make it through this.

“He was so close.”  Steve finally whispered, Natasha looking up at him sharply in confusion.  “This was meant to be his last mission Nat.  He was finally… finally coming home.”

“Jesus Christ...”  Pulling Steve into a hug she held him while he sobbed openly into her shoulder.  She muttered reassurances to him quietly, stroking his hair until he calmed enough to stop crying but refusing to let go of him when he tried to pull back.  Steve let her hold him close, the steady beating of her heart lulling him to sleep.  Sometime later he woke to Natasha shaking his shoulder gently to let him know Bucky was out of surgery.  Disoriented and slightly panicked, Steve followed her through the obnoxiously lit halls to the correct ward, pausing outside the door.

“Look… the doctor did warn me while you were out that, uh… he’s lost some things.  His arm.  They couldn’t save it.”  Natasha said in a thick voice, clearing her throat against the tears.  “They were taking about prosthesis and making changes at home to help him adjust but I couldn’t… well, we can revisit that once he’s awake.  I thought you should know, so you’re prepared.  It’s… it’s hard, seeing him so broken.  I sat with him for a little bit already before I woke you up since I knew you’d probably refuse to leave his side and I thought you deserved some rest first.”

“Aren’t you coming in with me?”  Steve asked as she pulled away from him to wipe her eyes.

“I need to let Clint know what’s going on, and frankly, I need a cigarette.”  She laughed weakly, patting his shoulder. “Besides, I should probably call and update Tony.  He already text to let me know he understands if we both need some time off to take care of James.”

“He’s… thank him for me, please.”  Steve said softly.  Natasha briefly squeezed his hand for reassurance.

“Of course.”  She nodded, pulling out her phone.  “Do you need anything?  Food, bottle of water, comfortable clothes?  I’m sure Clint wouldn’t mind stopping by your place on the way here, he’s already heading to our place to get a bag together.”

“Sure, something that’s not a button down would be great.”  Steve smiled weakly, hugging her before she headed off.

He turned towards the door beside him and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  He’d been less nervous for missions overseas than he was now.  Pushing the door open he walked slowly into the dimly lit room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could.  His heart lodged itself in his throat uncomfortably, Steve blinking back new tears at the sight before him.

Bucky was unconscious in bed, his face heavily bruised and bandaged, a tube down his throat keeping him breathing.  Several machines around him whirled quietly in the otherwise silent room, wires and tubes crossed over the bed like a barbed wire fence. The worse part was the heavy bandaged over his shoulder where his arm used to be, now just gone.  It looked darkly comical to Steve as he stood there struggling to keep control of his breathing, so cleanly done like a Barbie arm popped harmlessly out of its socket.

Forcing himself to look away, Steve made his way to the chair next to the bed and settled down to wait through the night.

 

 

*          *          *          *          *

 

 

23 hours, 47 minutes.

Bucky hadn't woken up.

Natasha had brought Clint back to the hospital with her when she returned a little bit later, a full tray of shitty coffees and a bag of good take out in hand as well as a small rucksack of Steve's things.  He caught them up on what little he'd learned from the nurse who'd stopped by to change his bandages.  Clint told them about his day to distract them for a few minutes.  They'd stayed through the night with him, eventually leaving so Clint would go to work and Natasha could get some sleep at home before heading back into the office.  Apparently she'd refused to take time off like Tony had offered, knowing if she stayed at the hospital she would just worry herself sick and make Steve more nervous than he already was.

 

47 hours, 15 minutes

Still, Bucky remained unconscious.

Natasha and Clint made him leave for a few hours to eat some real food, looking worried when he refused to go home and sleep afterwards.  They respected his wishes but were clearly concerned.  Steve overheard two of the nurses speculating on whether additional testing should be run and the likelihood that Bucky might be comatose.  He pretended he hadn't heard when one came in to offer him a blanket and a bottle of water, but his worry increased.

 

56 hours, 39 minutes.

Steve awoke to some sort of alarms, one of the machines going crazy.  Bucky was thrashing in the bed, still unconscious. Steve realized after a beat it was a seizure, jumping to his feet to hold Bucky's head still thinking he remembered being told that was helpful in these situations once.  Nurses flooded the room, one of them struggling to push him out of the way.  He did his best not to hyperventilate in the corner, staring blankly at the mass of bodies obscuring Bucky from his view.  After several tense minutes the beeping stopped, calm resuming slowly.  A nurse pulled him over to his chair and gently guided him into it, but he didn't absorb her words, just the soothing quality of them.  It meant James Barnes was still alive.  That was all that mattered.

 

72 hours and 41 minutes.

Bucky finally woke up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh I'm literal trash, I know. It's been almost a year since I've written any sort of fanwork at all. It's been a rough... everything, honestly. Between work, family, and personal problems its been really hard to do any of my hobbies. 
> 
> Also, this was really short, but I didn't have a lot of time today and I was determined to get something done with this. It's a bit of a bridge section anyways between what has happened and the next big thing, so there's also that. Please forgive any inaccuracies in this chapter. I don't do hospitals, actively avoid them, don't like shows like ER or Greys Anatomy because I get uncomfortable. So yeah. I did the best I could here.
> 
> No promises but I want to get back into my writing, and at the very least finish this one. There shouldn't be much more after this anyways from the plot I'd outlined when I started this fic. Hope you liked it and thanks for hanging in!


	9. Awoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can only stay strong for so long

At first Steve thought he was dreaming. After days of waiting and worrying about whether his best friend would be okay, it didn't seem real to see Bucky wearily blinking over at him as he shall ran his hand over his face. It wasn't until he let out a short cough that rattled his whole body that Steve snaooed out of it.  He practically fell out of his chair, hurriedly pushing the call nurse button before helping Bucky to sit up and take a few shallow sips of water.

 

"You had me worried there for a minute Buck."  Steve said, clearing his throat to stop the quavering in it.  Bucky shot him a tired smile as he leaned back into his pillows trying to get more comfortable. 

 

_Does he know about his arm?_ It certainly didn't seem like it to Steve.  Bucky adjusted in the bed, seemingly completely fine to have woken up with his arm missing.  _He's probably still hazy from the pain medication, maybe he hasn't noticed. Should I pretend, or tell him?..._

 

"Eh, you should know better. We're from Brooklyn, it'll take more than that to finish me off." He said softly, his voice hoarse from disuse.  It was becoming a perverse game now as the thoughts swirled around his head and compounded: how long could Steve keep his eyes off Bucky's missing arm?  How long before Bucky realized and started to panic?  "We're like cockroaches."

 

"Thank God for that." Steve said, shaking his head.  He suppose he shouldnt have been surprised.  Of course his best friend would get blown off a train and make jokes about it afterwards.  Still, tears pricked at his eyes: Bucky was here, alive, still acting like a smartass.  A huge weight lifted off his chest, Steve finally feeling like he could breathe after days of struggling with himself.  He knew they we're out of the park yet.  Physical therapy, possibly prosthetics, and loads of painkillers were in their immediatr future.  But for now, he was just happy Bucky was awake.  "I was so worried about you."

 

"M'sorry." He sighed. He opened his mouth to say more but shut it quickly as a nurse hurried in, shooing Steve out so she could examine him before the doctor came through.  He squeezed Bucky's had as he passed, shooting him the most reassuring smile he could before the nurse pulled the curtains closed.

 

Heading outside for the first time in days,  Steve blinked against the overly bright light of midday, squinting down at his phone as he dialed Natasha.

 

_"Hello?"_

 

"Hey, Nat."

 

_"Oh god, is he okay?  What happened?  Do you need me to -"_

 

_"_ Hey, no.  Its alright, he's fine."  Steve cursed himself for not thinking.  Of course Natasha would think the worst - he felt dead on his feet, so he could only imagine how despondant he sounded on her end.  "I was actually calling to tell you he woke up.  A nurse is examining him now, but he's awake, so that's good."

 

_"Thank God! I have a few things to finish up here but I'll head over there right aftet work.  Would you might calling Count for me to let him know to meet me there?"_

 

"Of course, no problem.  See you in a bit."  Steve said.  After calling Clint - this time, remembering to try to not sound like the harbinger of dead friends - Steve took a deep breath, staring down at the contact pulled up on his screen.

 

He'd purposefully been ignoring Tony.

 

True, he'd responded to Tony's initial message telling him to take as much time as he needed to take care of Buck, but after that he'd gone ghost.  He knew enough about his boss by now to know he was probably a mess waiting to hear from him, but every time Steve tried to draft a text or call, something stopped him.  He couldn't let go of the memory of that tense moment they'd shared in the car when Bucky had called him from overseas.

 

Throwing caution to the wind, he hit the call button.

 

" _Steve?"_

 

_"_ Hey Tony."  He said softly, trying but failing to get his vocal chords to keep faking happy. 

 

" _You okay?"_

 

Something in Steve broke at the question.  He'd spent the last few days worrying about Bucky, trying to comfort Natasha and be there for Clint, barely sleeping or eating.  The thought that Tony's first thought had been to check on _him..._

 

Steve couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

 

"No, I'm not.  I'm really not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, i wanted to get soemthing posted but im a little short on time given that my wedding is in two weeks. Busy busy busy.
> 
> Hope you liked it!


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